“Wow, you have a lot of hair” or “I love all your hair”, or “WOW is your hair really that thick?” and I am never quite sure if they like it or not? I like it, it’s better to have a thick head of hair than thin, but there are days when it’s a real pain in ass too.
There ARE worse things, I know. But, I feel like I have to defend my hair a lot of the times. I can’t wear it short because it’s WIDE and then my head would look enormous, I can’t put it in one of those cool skinny ponytails EVER, and I have to keep up on getting it thinned out. Also, my hair doesn’t really grow past a certain point so it’s in a constant state of “bigness”. Back in the 80’s and 90’s, when I was growing up, I blended in with everyone else’s big hair, so my hair wasn’t out of the ordinary, and even now it seems like hair is getting a little bigger again. But for the last ten years, I would get a “comment” a day.
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| I am Third row from top 7th from left. yes the one with the bangs and the lovely neck bow. |
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| Another fne example of BIG hair! |
This brings me to my point – My many hairstylists. Growing up, my Mom did my hair, and I hated every hairdo she ever gave me. I had the Shirley Temple, the Dorothy Hamil, the super short and cropped to my head, a bowl cut, and then many years of straight-across-my-forehead bangs!
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| My college roomate and I -besides the attire, look at our hair!! ( I am on the left) |
The first person that ever did my hair professionally was our next door neighbor who ran a salon with his wife. He is the one that eventually cut the curl from the top of my head. But he also gave me my first perm at like age 3. We stopped seeing him when my Mom’s best friend who happened to be his wife caught him in bed with um, a man – which is fine, just not when you are still married to the opposite sex….
The next hair stylist I remember was a very special one to me – Her name was Tracy and my Mom met her when she came in for physical therapy where my Mom worked. They became good friends despite their age difference and she did my Mom’s hair for a long time and then mine. Tracy was around 18 or 19 when she was out with friends from the salon where she worked, crossed the street and was hit by a drunk driver in a van. After a year in a full body cast, she ended up as a paraplegic. Tracy was (and I am sure still is) beautiful. She lived on her own, travelled the world, became an amazing photographer and scuba diver and continued her career as a hair stylist and did my hair until I left for college. Her customers sat in a special chair that was very low to the ground, much like a chaise lounge. We became good friends despite our age difference and she taught me some valuable lessons about strength, courage and independence. We used to go to the mall together and eat Chicken Waldorf Salads and Scones, and window shop. One time she was featured in a local news program doing my hair – I begged her not to get it wet though. I had her speak to my senior class about Drinking and Driving and she brought everyone in the school to tears. Unfortunately, because I left for school and was over three hours away we lost touch with each other, but I still think of her all the time.
Before I had kids I was able to spend money on clothes and my hair and for awhile I went to one of those big salons where you had to have an appointment for a month in advance, if not more. I made my appoints quarterly. I loved that salon because it was fun to watch the drama between the hair stylists, and the people who ran the salon. I knew I was a good customer when I worked my way up in stylist status. ( mostly because they charged me double for the amount of hair I had and I have always been a big tipper) After I had my first child though, that salon wasn’t really my speed anymore and after some botched hairdo’s and a few local shops(never go to a stylist who is also studying to be an Engineer) I found a small niche salon and had my first male stylist. He was great, he even gave my daughter her first haircut. I loved him doing my hair because he loved my hair and spent almost an hour just playing with it.
During all this time, my sister in law who has always been a stylist would do my hair whenever we were together and I was visiting back home. She introduced me to color and highlights. I would get this done at the salon when I could or in-between visits, but when she did it I didn’t have to pay an arm and a leg. Eventually as we had our other two kids, I stopped being able to afford the expensive coloring and one day my sister in law taught my husband how to color my hair.
We ended up moving closer to my Brother and sister in law and she now does my hair, but in between, my husband still colors it. Today, I went to my all time favorite “Colorist” and got my hair did. Unfortunately, I have had some grey hair since my early twenties, so I’m a regular hair coloring customer. Now I have to tell you that the ONLY reason my husband does my hair, is because we save well over $100 each time–especially with the amount of MY hair. Usually we aren’t speaking by the time he is done coloring it for me because I call him the hair stylist Nazi and he gets annoyed at me complaining about missing a spot. It’s funny – we are the kind of couple that doesn’t even go in the same room when the other is in the bathroom, we have never burped or passed gas in front of each other, BUT he has seen the intimate details of my premature greys and kindly covers them up. (Well, maybe not KINDLY)
So today, Don colored my hair and I look 10 years younger already – How are YOU?
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