This week the RevGals (and guys) are talkin' hair:
Do you like your hair?
It’s one of the few things about my appearance that I do like. Hair stylists are fascinated by it, too, because it’s so thick; they’re always running their hands through it, marveling at its texture. (This is, by the way, the closest thing to a social life that I enjoy.) I had one enraptured stylist exclaim, “Oooh, your hair is just like my Malamute’s!” She meant it in a good way.
Have you ever colored your hair? If not, would you consider it?
I haven’t tried coloring it. I’m thinking that when I hit 50 and feel particularly cronely and outrageous I’ll try some subtle shade of red, since it has natural reddish highlights anyway. Not reddy-red/Esau-red red. I’m not that outrageous. Yet.
What's the longest you've ever worn your hair? The shortest?
Believe it or not, in eighth grade I could sit on my hair. No kidding. Carole King, Yoko Ono and Cher were my role models. (Yes; I was a strange child.) Nowadays I wear my hair in what used to be called a boyish bob (give or take various brands of hair goo that I run through it in the morning, in what passes for “styling” at my house. Have you ever really taken a look at some of this stuff? I have some that looks and feels like blue slime – like a science experiment gone very wrong. I have some that looks and feels like bathtub caulking. I have some that’s like car wax. Sometimes, as I’m sliming or caulking or waxing my hair, I think, You’ve got to be kidding).
When and what was your worst. haircut. ever?
Well, there was that punkinhead pageboy back in third grade – that was pretty disturbing, in retrospect. But I think the award has to go to my one attempt at permed hair, in middle school, when frizzy hair was “in.” My mom did it, with a home perm kit and those teeny-tiny rollers. But because my hair is so thick, the bottom layer of hair wouldn’t stay in the rollers…leaving me with a halo of chemically fried curls and a bowl of perfectly straight hair underneath. Imagine Barbra Streisand’s 1970’s ‘fro sitting on top of Ringo Starr’s “Let it Be” cover coif; not a pretty picture.
Tell us a favorite song or scene from a book or movie dealing with hair.
Wow…well, there’s the theme from Hair; that’s a fun tune, although I’d look pretty silly singing it. And that line in the Beatles’ “Here, There and Everywhere,” about There, running my hands through her hair/Both of us thinking how good it can be/Someone is speaking/ but she doesn't know he's there... (Maybe it's that annoying guy in the cell phone commercial who plants his folding chair right next to the canoodling couple in the park and starts munching on a drumstick from his picnic Tupperware.)
Anyhow...that's what I've got to say about my hair.
6 comments:
I'm laughing out loud...that was hilarious! :-D
"Carole King, Yoko Ono, and Cher were my role models. (Yes; I was a strange child"
Rita Coolidge and Crystal Gale were two of my hair heroes. At nine years old I LOVED wearing my hair in two ponytales, with the band tied just below my ears, like Rita, instead of high up on the top of my head like all the other girls.
And, on the opposite side of the spectrum, Dorothy Hammil. Who is, I discovered while indulgently watching Skating with the Stars, STILL be-yoooo-tiful.
Would that blue slime be Bed Head Manipulator?
'Cause I have some on my counter as we speak. And that stuff rocks. In a very disturbing way.
It's something called Rewind.
(They probably make great generic vats of it and then scoop it into different jars under different names.)
It reminds me of a science fiction movie I saw as a small child, where the aliens left globs of lethal slime behind them. Gave me nightmares for weeks.;-)
Apparently LutheranChik and I are hair twins, since my answers mirrored hers down the line... except the coloring one. (I am never so happy as when I return from my bimonthly highlights-- gold glistening thru the ash...) But then, perhaps I'm just closer to 50 than the Chik...
I've been having lots of adventures in hair recently...see my blog.
One I didn't mention was the worst ever. A perm I got from a stylist I had never seen before, two days before a big job interview-I know, at least three big hair-styling rules broken there. Anyway, my hair was long enough on the top to curl around the rods, but not the sides or back. Afterwards, I looked like a mangy poodle!
I got the job, though. Perhaps it was pity ("Wow, she really needs this job to pay for a decent hair cut!").
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