No, they aren’t “grey” hairs, I’m just so fabulous that even my hair sparkles.
I had my hair done today. My hairdresser styled it differently today (she didn’t use the curling iron!) and she told me that I didn’t look matronly. What? I never considered my hair to be matronly…except compared to my “baby” sister, who has purple and blue chunks of color. I’m just a boring all-over blue/black color, but I never thought I looked matronly.
When we were kids, it was customary for women my mother’s age to visit the hairdresser once a week, have their hair teased to the limit, and then spray it with Aerolak. Liquid aerosol hairspray, before we knew anything about vinyl chloride as a carcinogen, or that aerosol sprays, in general, were bad for the environment. But the hairspray kept Mom’s hair in place for a week…especially when she wrapped her head in toilet paper and slept on a silk pillowcase every night.
When I was a teenager, I wanted the Dorothy Hamill haircut. Who didn’t? But alas, I didn’t have the right texture so I used the hairdryer pictured above (I got it as a gift for my Sweet Sixteen) to torture my hair into a Farrah Fawcett style. The fluffier the wings the better!
What I’ve concluded is this: one of the reasons I am on this earth is to make my hairdresser laugh. At almost every visit, I show her a picture of what I want. As far as my hair is concerned, I don’t get what I want, but it doesn’t work. Today, I was asked “what are we doing with your hair today?” and my response was “surprise me.” And she did. And I was happy.