I don’t have a lot of hair. I wish I had a lot of hair. But, instead, I have a few thin strands that I keep coloring and moving around my head to create the illusion of thick, luxurious hair. My mom refers to it as ‘cat fur’… puny, malnourished, mange-infested cat fur.
Oh how I long to have long hair. I always have longed for long tresses. I used to wrap towels or my mom’s nightgowns around my head, stand in front of a mirror, and whip it about my shoulders as if the fabric were my luscious long hair. But then it would fall off and I would be left with my stringy, short hair.
Mom tried to help me. I remember playing in the ‘hood with my friends, minding my own business, and Mom would call out to me, “Buffy! Come on home. I wanna try something!” (Yes, Buffy was my childhood nickname. I grew to hate it and if you say anything snide about it, I will go nuts… not Mel-Gibson-Nuts… but close) I would come home into Mom’s lair of beauty salon horrors and she would give me perms. “This will add body to your hair! Volume!! You’re going to love it!” I’d walk out of Satan’s Salon (mom’s kitchen) looking like a poodle and smelling like one, too. She did that to me a couple of times before I wised up.
Then I became an adult, got married, and took hair matters into my own hands. I still wanted long, big hair. I still had short, cotton candy hair. I thought a professional could help me. I went to a REAL salon for… a perm. Once. I came home, that dark and rainy nite and faced my (new) husband. Matt grew up with three older sisters. He was wise beyond his years, “Hey, there! Look at you. Sooooo…. what do YOU think of it?” (see what I mean? Well-played, baby. Well-played).
“I think I look like the bride of Frankenstein stuck a tuning fork into a light socket!!!” Then I cried and ran away in hideous shame.
That was nearly 15 years ago. I have since embraced the short, sassy hair styles and accepted I have thin, lifeless hair. I’ve played with color to mask the lack of depth. Recently, I had hot pink and teal streaks put in my hair. But that’s as crazy as I’ve gone….
… until…. last Friday. You know where I’m going with this, don’t you? YES! I got a perm!
I know! I know! What the hell was I thinking??? Do I ever learn my lessons? Am I a glutton for punishment? I was thinking I want long hair, dammit! Yes, I learn my lessons, but the education always wears off over time. No, I’m not into S&M. For the love of all things glamorous, I JUST WANT LONG HAIR!!!!
So, to make a long story short (theeeere it is! There’s the clever title-tie-in), the perm actually turned out great! Amanda at Retrospective Hair Salon in downtown Acworth (shameless plug for ya, Amanda) worked her magic, used fat rods (that sounds so kinky… haha… get it?), and gave my lifeless locks LIFE! MY HAIR IS ALIVE!!!! And I love, love, love it! Soon, I will have loooooong haaaaaaair aaaaaaaaall the way down to myyyyyyy jaw! And the hair fairies will rejoice! I will run barefoot through a meadow, with my hair flowing in the breeze behind me!
What? Too much?
-B(Sting)
What no pic? Of the new ‘do, not the frolic through the meadow, lol.
I too suffer from skinny hair or “fine” if you are a stylist trying to humor me. Although, I have length, body is but a dream.
Why just today, I was toying with the idea of a cut when I was sitting at the salon waiting for my sister. She suffers the same affliction of anorexic hair. I watched the stylist clip and shape. Then I saw her taking the thinning blade to her hair and winced. (noooooooooooooo!) If that were me I’d probably be grabbing those precious scraps of hair in hopes that they could be put back on.
I think I’ll ponder a lenght change a bit longer.
I have baby fine, thin hair and no interest in styling it on a regular basis. My baseball cap is my best friend! However, I do have friends in the salon (it pays to tip obscenely well when you only get your hair cut three times a year, before important EVENTS) and they do a wonderful job of layers and telling me that I need to use a straightening iron on that horrific cowlick and that the random Mrs. Brady curl at the back of my neck might need a little straightening too.
I will never have luxurious long hair you can toss over your shoulder. If I let mine grow out, it might be a bit reminiscent of the Crypt Keeper from that scary movie in the 80s. I keep my hair chin length-ish. I have had perms. My mom had them shear me like a sheep once in my teens, and held me down to streak my hair.
I am now 30 pounds too heavy to pull that look off. Trust me on that one.
“Why don’t you wear your hair that way now? It looked SO good!”
“Because I weigh more and my cheeks and jaws aren’t what I wish to emphasize 20 years later!”
And because when push comes to shove, hair styling won’t make my top five list of things to do today.
Now where is my ball cap?
I’m in with Surly… NO PIC? That’s just a tease… a ha ha ha.. yeah, I know…that was bad.
I won’t tell you that I dread going to get my hair cut because I can’t stand the cost of the cut (Stephen at Toni & Guy). So, my hair has grown extra extra long…”someone is going to throw a saddle on me and slap my forehead” long. I might have to find Amanda.
Also, if I taught exercise classes like you…as much as you…I would chop my hair off immediately. Your hair suits you so well and I cannot picture you any other way. Isn’t that what they call “Sassy”???? Yup!