Friday, February 4, 2011

Rocking the Wave

Oh big hair of my youth, where have you gone?  Why have you abandoned me?  


Wait.  Am I having a moment of late-night, cold medicine induced, pre hair appointment weakness?  


I read this article in the New York Times today about bringing back (in a whisper) the perm and I may have heard a choir faintly singing in the background.  Trumpets played.  Beams of light were somewhere I'm sure.  


Yep, you heard me right.  


The.  Perm.


Courtesy Yana Paskova, NY Times


Ladies, remember it?  Sitting for what seemed like hours while your stylist wrapped your hair in tiny pastel rollers, tucked cotton batting in a halo around your scalp, then doused your rolled hair in a foul smelling chemical (that somehow smelled comforting at the same time), and had you sit and sit and sit while it "processed" and smelled more strongly as the time ticked by.  If you were lucky enough, you got to sit under the dryer and really let your scalp burn.  After what seemed like forever, she would pop the rollers free in the sink, rinse your hair (never wash), style it and send you home with strict instructions to not wet it for TWENTY FOUR HOURS after you had it completed.  (don't make me quote Elle Woods here)


Oh the styles we had...the sky-high bangs, the teased pony tails, the mousse, the scrunch spray, the aqua net...I could go on and on and on.  Our hair, no matter how fine and wispy when unstyled, was always larger than life, sassy and full.  


Then came grunge.  Then came the 90's.  Now we are all sleek and stylish.  Don't get me wrong.  I'm a girl with a head full of fine, straight, hair that needs no touch of a flat iron.  I am that girl who gets to wash and go.  But when I read this article the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention, did a little dance, and begged for some bounce to be put back in their lifeless step.  


Can't we find a happy medium?  Can't we get some luscious locks with wave, beachy fun, and curl without going back to the poodle look? Tomorrow when I settle into Dee's chair to get my hairs did I will ask her all about this.  And when she looks at me like I'm nuts (because she always does) I will promptly inform her she must be trained in these new ways, because I'm growing out my short hair and readying myself for some big curls.  Perm.  Here.  I.  Come.  


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