Some people have a bad hair day. I lead a bad hair life. There are better bad days than others, but it consistently hates me. Ever been hated by your hair? I have and let me tell you the feeling is mutual.
When I was a little girl my mother used to compare my hair to a horses tail. I had thick, tangly, wavy strawberry blonde hair. She would braid my hair because honestly it was the only way to control it. And it fought back! If you tried to make it pretty, it would literally revert back to its predone state in less than 10 minutes. Therefore braids it was. I was the Laura Ingalls Wilder of many different elementary schools (as a military brat I moved a lot). Can’t you picture me running through the prairie with my flippety floppety braids?
In 5th grade I decided to stage a rebellion against the “Hair From Hell”. I asked to chop it off. Not all of it, but quite a bit of it. Before we did the deed, my Mom took a picture of it-my hair was down to my butt. Then I had it chopped. Still braidable, but I chose to do very little. Thus setting up the stage for the rest of my life.
In 8th grade big hair was cool, and since I had all of the texture but none of the ringlets of wickedly curly hair, I opted to get a perm. The girl who did it kept raving that I would look just like Jon Bon Jovi. It was curly. BIG. Definitely an improvement over what I had. Thus became the routine for many years. Perm it, grow it out, perm it, grow it out. Permity perm perm. I thought it was too curly, but once it relaxed I liked it.
As I got older, big hair was replaced with small hair, and I pretty much quit doing the perming thing. What was left was wild frizzy hair that had no control. I’ve had that pretty much ever since. No matter how much work I put into, an hour later it will look like I didn’t even try anything. It is evil hair. I may even go as far as to say cursed. Don’t give me advice. Don’t tell me it will look better if I don’t wash it for a few days. Tried that, disgusting. Don’t tell me to go buy the Suave Professionals line that is supposed to be JUST LIKE the other stuff. Maybe if you have normal person hair. It made my hair the opposite of what Rumplestiltskin would do, it turned it to straw. I’m shocked that animals didn’t mistake my hair for bedding, it was so bad. Don’t tell me to go online and research my hair, because I’ve done it. NO ONE ELSE HAS HAIR LIKE ME!
Not only can you not use affordable hair products on my Hair From Satan, it is very difficult to find a good haircut. Or rather, find someone who knows HOW to cut my hair. I went through stylists like underwear there for awhile. Finally after years of searching, I thought I had found my hair whisperer. I went to her for several years. My hair could be almost passable as normal. Then she moved. NOOOOOOO! How could she do this to me? In the meantime, I tried in vain to find a new hair whisperer, but alas I wound up with one terrible haircut. A girl who was convinced that she could give me a new look now that I was a mommy chopped all of my hair off. I looked like Kristy McNichol had a baby with Ronald McDonald. It was BAD.
Fortunately, when I went back I found a new gal who knew how to talk to my hair. She was able to take her whip and chair and calm it into some sort of near normal hairstyle. I’ve been with her ever since, I’ve followed her to a couple of different places, and considering what a mess my hair is she does a good job.
But much like stupid, some hair is just not fixable. When I lost my school job, I decided to go all earth mother and grow it out. Unfortunately unlike an earth mothery type gal, I can’t just make do with homemade hair products. Or cheap hair products. So now we are here in the present day, a year and a half after I lost my full time job and unemployed for four months. I need a haircut badly, but I have no money. If I go so long without a cut, my hair loses interest in living and just exists. So I am here. Hair Purgatory. I am out of the good stuff that makes it almost passable. There is no love here. I just wash, put stuff in it, and occasionally it cooperates for a couple of hours after drying before it poofs into Hexed Hair.
I thought she had escaped the trap of the Hell Hair, but my daughter’s hair is mutating rapidly into the same type. Poor thing. It doesn’t help that she avoids hair brushing like the plague. Most of the time I’m convinced that she looks like an orphan with that wild crazy tangled mop. She had no idea what challenges lie ahead of her. The tears, the frustration, the urge to shave her head. (For the record I have never shaved my head. I think I would be one ugly bald person.) Maybe she’ll take an interest in hats. Maybe perms will be back in by the time she gets old enough to care. Or maybe she’ll be better than I am and just NOT care.