Yes…people would say that I am a little bit sensitive, or maybe that I wear my heart on my sleeve and maybe sometimes…okay, quite often I over share. The other day I was with my girls, they know me quite well and we were on a topic I don’t love- HAIR.
Hair always has been a such a problem, ever since my mom cut my bangs every two weeks as a child. They were cut up high on my forehead and always at an angle. Sometimes I got a frizzy Toni perm. It’s a wonder my hair didn’t fall out, that chemical formula was lethal, I think.
I moved into my teenage years with lukewarm blonde hair, skimpy and straight and finally mom started letting me be a bit more independent. I used Dippity Doo every night and tried to sleep on those horrible pink hard rollers. Things started to improve with the blow dryer and then things really began to improve with experimentation with my girlfriends. We perfected highlighting with the pull through snug cap. I could even do my own and when I married Dave he helped me pull from the back. I never went to the beauty parlor, except for a trim, I’m a little cheap, kind of like my mom.
Fast forward quite a few years. As I got older, my hair got better. It had more heft to it. The person that cut my hair told me it was because of the grey coming in, which I really didn’t seem to notice. It just kind of grew in pretty naturally with my highlighted hair, or so I thought.
Here is the conversation around my table of friends the other night.
Friend #1- I was thinking about getting my hair colored. (She has snow white beautiful platinum natural hair.)
Friend #2 (hairdresser)- Don’t do that, people pay for your color. Some put purple streak in, it’s all the rage.
Me– I need to do something with my hair, I’m bored with it.
Friend#3- Nancy, you need a style!!!! (Okay, she might not have said it in such an intense matter but I also might have been a wee bit offended, because I’ve worn my hair the same way for so long and no one had ever said anything)
Me to Friend #2 (hairdresser friend)- Do you think you could give me a style next week?
Next Tuesday I trot over to my friend’s for the style.
As she cuts she says.”You know how we were talking about Friend#1‘s beautiful grey hair?”
“Mmmhmmm,” I murmured thinking she would tell me how great my greys were.
“Your’s aren’t the pretty kind.”
“Well, (hmmph I thought) Did you at least give me some style this week?”
“I think you look better than last week with the layers. But…”
“Next week…I hope you can help me out with the the other problem.”
“Anything for a friend, I’ve got your back, I mean, your hair.”