Oh Lord...here we go again! My hair has been a love/hate relationship my entire life. Right now ... I love it one day and hate it the next! As a child, my hair was black as night and straight as a board. Every Saturday afternoon I spent hours sitting still (or so it seemed) while my Mom covered my entire scalp with pin curls...hoping by some overnight miracle my straight hair would be filled with bouncy fat Shirley Temple curls. She wanted me to always look my best for Sunday School and Church the next day. Rarely did we get home with even one curl left. My hair having a mind of it's own, would revert back to my usual Dutch Boy Bob -- straight bangs and straight hair cut just below chin level.
My first home perm was when I was about four -- don't really remember the outcome of that nightmare, but I do remember the stinky scalp buring process and having to sit still in my high chair in the kitchen for ever. Bring back pin curls --- they didn't hurt or stink. The only other thing I remember about this hair adventure is we were living in Cleburne at the time...oh, well the hair saga continues.
Left to it's own devices, my hair was again straight and long several months later...way down my back long and put up in a pony tail most of the time. Shortly after my fifth birthday, by joint decision (Mom and me) we cut my hair. Dad was away on business when the cutting occurred, but all hell broke loose when he returned and saw me with a short "pixie" style cut...all the rage at that time. What is it with men and long hair? Mine started growing.
Life rocked on and my hair grew back...again, long and straight. First grade appeared on the horizon and the hair style for school was straight bangs and tight French braids on either side of my head...can you say slant eyed tight. My Mom was frequently asked if I was a Korean War orphan due to her daily braiding skills. This was a common mistake in the 60s since many children from Korea found their way to America. Braids turned into a hight tight pony tail ... relief, no more pulling and tugging to get those braids just so...and normal round eyes.
So...back and forth for years...long, short, long, short. I really didn't care what it looked like as long as Mom was in charge of hair every day and I didn't have to do anything to it.
Puberty hit when I reached the fifth grade and along with becoming a woman, my hair began to change. It had a mind of it's own - curls here, straight there - cowlicks at the nape of my neck (still there -- damn) and the devilish triple crown (not for horse racing) decided to make an appearance just to make things on top of my head a little more interesting and annoying. Mom stil beat it into submission every morning with those tight French braids or a high pony, but my once straight bangs were no longer straight. Gad I HATED my hair. If not rolled on pink sponge rollers when it was washed, I made Janis Joplin look like Cher! My grandmother, ever the irreverant soul, once actually said in my presence, "You could not get all that frizzy mess under a bushel basket!" Yeah...no love lost there.
Middle school and high school were seasons of hair hell. Everyone had long, shiny, smooth, straight Cher hair...that is, everyone but me. That frizzy mess only got worse as the years went by. Nothing worked! We spent hours in the kitchen again, using "Curl Free" an almost reverse perm process and it barely made any difference. Once again...a stinky mess that burned my scalp, but we had to comb for hours in hopes of make my hair straight. Next, attempt at straight hair was to use pounds of Dippity Do slathered on my hair. Most of the hair was pulled high on my head and rolled around a huge pink plastic roller the size of a Coke can. The left over hair was wrapped around my head (a la Donald Trump comb over) and taped in place for the night. This gave me my longed for straight hair...until I walked out the door. I could physically feel my scalp tighten as the curls took over and that frizzy mess staked it's claim.
Now that I am in my soon to be golden years with silver rather than raven hair - straight is back - not the board straight of my childhood, but straight only when it wants to be. My season of hell now is that damned triple crown. It takes over and makes my hair look flat on the top left, and giving the appearance of a bald spot there with pink rabbit skin showing through.
Maybe Brittany had the right idea several years ago...just shave it ALL OFF!
Below is a golden oldie --- I so relate to the guy in the first scene --- that was my HAIR!!! Enjoy this video because it is just fun.
My first home perm was when I was about four -- don't really remember the outcome of that nightmare, but I do remember the stinky scalp buring process and having to sit still in my high chair in the kitchen for ever. Bring back pin curls --- they didn't hurt or stink. The only other thing I remember about this hair adventure is we were living in Cleburne at the time...oh, well the hair saga continues.
Left to it's own devices, my hair was again straight and long several months later...way down my back long and put up in a pony tail most of the time. Shortly after my fifth birthday, by joint decision (Mom and me) we cut my hair. Dad was away on business when the cutting occurred, but all hell broke loose when he returned and saw me with a short "pixie" style cut...all the rage at that time. What is it with men and long hair? Mine started growing.
Life rocked on and my hair grew back...again, long and straight. First grade appeared on the horizon and the hair style for school was straight bangs and tight French braids on either side of my head...can you say slant eyed tight. My Mom was frequently asked if I was a Korean War orphan due to her daily braiding skills. This was a common mistake in the 60s since many children from Korea found their way to America. Braids turned into a hight tight pony tail ... relief, no more pulling and tugging to get those braids just so...and normal round eyes.
So...back and forth for years...long, short, long, short. I really didn't care what it looked like as long as Mom was in charge of hair every day and I didn't have to do anything to it.
Puberty hit when I reached the fifth grade and along with becoming a woman, my hair began to change. It had a mind of it's own - curls here, straight there - cowlicks at the nape of my neck (still there -- damn) and the devilish triple crown (not for horse racing) decided to make an appearance just to make things on top of my head a little more interesting and annoying. Mom stil beat it into submission every morning with those tight French braids or a high pony, but my once straight bangs were no longer straight. Gad I HATED my hair. If not rolled on pink sponge rollers when it was washed, I made Janis Joplin look like Cher! My grandmother, ever the irreverant soul, once actually said in my presence, "You could not get all that frizzy mess under a bushel basket!" Yeah...no love lost there.
Middle school and high school were seasons of hair hell. Everyone had long, shiny, smooth, straight Cher hair...that is, everyone but me. That frizzy mess only got worse as the years went by. Nothing worked! We spent hours in the kitchen again, using "Curl Free" an almost reverse perm process and it barely made any difference. Once again...a stinky mess that burned my scalp, but we had to comb for hours in hopes of make my hair straight. Next, attempt at straight hair was to use pounds of Dippity Do slathered on my hair. Most of the hair was pulled high on my head and rolled around a huge pink plastic roller the size of a Coke can. The left over hair was wrapped around my head (a la Donald Trump comb over) and taped in place for the night. This gave me my longed for straight hair...until I walked out the door. I could physically feel my scalp tighten as the curls took over and that frizzy mess staked it's claim.
Now that I am in my soon to be golden years with silver rather than raven hair - straight is back - not the board straight of my childhood, but straight only when it wants to be. My season of hell now is that damned triple crown. It takes over and makes my hair look flat on the top left, and giving the appearance of a bald spot there with pink rabbit skin showing through.
Maybe Brittany had the right idea several years ago...just shave it ALL OFF!
Below is a golden oldie --- I so relate to the guy in the first scene --- that was my HAIR!!! Enjoy this video because it is just fun.
Always I wish you peace, joy and happiness but most of all I wish you LOVE. And a good hair day!
As Ever, Annie
As Ever, Annie