May 23, 2020 … Saturday (Day 128,973 of quarantining … or so it seems)
Here in the NW we’ve been under “Stay Home, Stay Healthy” orders for a while now. A LONG while (or so it seems) … and I’m not sure when the new release date has been set – but I don’t think it really matters. I’m not going to be going anywhere. Certainly not anywhere where anyone can breathe on me at a close range … like at a nail or hair salon. If you can cut my hair from 12 feet away, with a mask on and disinfectant simultaneously being spritzed into the air … I’m coming in! But otherwise, nope. I will be doing it myself – per usual. And, while I’m thinking of it … why are dog “salons” called dog groomers and why aren’t salons for people called “human groomers”?
The little poodlette I was taking care of for the past few days just went home. I combed her out as best I could (as she was looking a bit scraggly) trying to untangle her funny, frizzy hair without causing her distress. Poor baby really needs a day at the groomer’s.
Funny thing … as I stood looking at my imagine in the mirror this morning that’s exactly what I was thinking about myself! Poor baby really needs a day at the groomers! Don’t we all?
My hair is now below jaw length … don’t ask me how long it took to get here (a year? longer?) … my hair grows at a painfully slow rate. I think it must be hormonal. In any rate … the grays are coming and the hair is growing (a little) and I’m trying to not let it all bother me … too much.
The problem lies in that I have baby fine hair. As in BABY. FINE. Wisps of cotton candy or clouds are thicker than my hair strands. I get any sort of millimeter of extra length on said head and the hair hangs off me like the long ears of a basset hound. Not exactly my best look. How can such thin hair have such weight?!
I usually cut my own hair. Have for a million years. I have gone to salons and walk-in clip shops but it’s always the same … I sit/they snip twice/I pay. And it doesn’t really matter if I paid $100 at a salon or $15 at the strip mall place … it never looks that good and I go home and recut, whatever is left, myself. I never am satisfied with a salon cut. So, why go?
So … that’s what I do. But, I’ve decided during this quarantine time to just “let it go” … let what I can’t fix – just float away. Be an aeronaut of hair – just going along on the breeze, letting nothing phase me … letting my hair do what it wants. I’m going to great lengths here by saying this. Well, not great lengths but I’m giving it a shot. Maybe I’ll be able to change things up a bit – other than the normal (hideously awful) “page boy”. I can already make a pony tail (which is extremely exciting) … it’s a small, ill-looking, dinky one for sure … but it’s a pony tail nonetheless.
I can also sport pigs! Yes, I look like my body is 80 and my hair style is that of a 4 year old and those who don’t know me might think I’ve escaped from some facility … but I can make pig tails! Glory be!
I’m waiting for another few inches so that I can maybe braid some strands or do long Shirley Temple curls. Probably neither a good look but they are options! And that might take another year. Or I can do a partial updo … as it is now most of it is a down-do as I don’t have enough to go UP … but a few more inches would be helpful.
Why is hair such a thing for me? For women? For men?
Years ago when I shaved my head for research (that was a really horrible experiment) it took almost all year to get me sporting a longish pixie. Told ya my hair grows slowly. It was not a good thing. But, I learned a lot. Mostly how to tie scarves around my head. They looked nice. But they weren’t normal. Not here. Had I lived in some other nation where head dressings are common – I would have looked great. Here, I got mostly those pity eyeballs from people thinking I was sick. Too bad. I kind of liked that scarfed look.
Every now and then I’ll color my hair. It’s normally a bit TOO mousy for me … brown, brown and brown. Oh and gray. What started out as a few strands have now morphed into shocks. But only at the temples and they are mostly under other strands … somehow.
My hair has been a number of colors … mostly darker ones cuz I like the contrast with my light/pale/ivory/sickly skin tones. In the summer (a real summer – not a NW summer) I tan … but most of the time I’m just kind of pasty. Which is always a lovely way to describe oneself! So, to offset that (or complement or whatever) I tend to go more brunette. The dark color kind of tints my scalp (probably not a good thing) and gives the appearance of MORE HAIR which is always a good thing.
I’ve been darker brunettes and some really awful auburns but never a blonde. I don’t think that would be good on me. I don’t like the skin color and hair color being the same. Once I tried (what looked to be a beautiful shade on the box) a plum color … that started out really pretty for a few days and then after a few shampoos it turned kind of like a sick raspberry hue. I kept thinking I looked like some whipped jello concoction from some 1960s ladies’ luncheon. That was bad. Really bad.
I’ve been purple … well, not really totally eggplant (as I’d love) but dark black cherry with some eggplant streaks. In order to get total eggplant (at least the last time I checked) I’d have to strip my hair and I don’t want to do that. It’s so porous I’m afraid I’m permanently damage it.
Besides being porous and baby fine – it is also sparse … meaning, not many strands on this noggin’. So, I plod along with hair that you’d find on a semi-bald infant. Lovely.
My mom says I had “a lot of hair” when I was in high school … well, to qualify that I had LONG hair; it went down past my butt. And if hair was an academic subject – in length I would have been an A+ student. In thickness … um, I would have failed that subject completely. What my mom tends to forget is that in humidity my hair would (for lack of a better description) … pouff out. If I had short hair it certainly would have been the envy of anyone with an “afro” hairstyle. White girl/pouff-city.
What happened in the midwest and my hair was that it pouffed out but because it was long, it pouffed out sideways. I could wrap that hair around me like a blanket! Also not a good look.
When it was wet … if I was sporting a pony tail … you’d swear I had a very thin garter snake hanging from my neck down my back. Seriously. I could fit all my hair into one of those rubber bands made to hold braces together! Well, maybe not … but it seemed like it.
My mom is 91. She has always had hair. I mean GOBS of it. If she doesn’t get a haircut every 6 weeks or so we’d never find her face! My dad had thin, but nice, hair … I got his hair. How sad to note that the thinnest thing on my body is my … hair. (It couldn’t have been my legs or arms or chin … it had to be my hair!) My kids have good hair. I like it when Ted has a little length to it – and I’m not talking John Lennon … more like Robert Redford. He’s got good hair. My daughter has gorgeous hair … so many highlights … reds/coppers/blondes/several shades of browns … it’s long and so pretty. Tim had a great head of thick, almost black hair … wavy, shiny … a gazillion hairs on that head. I guess our kids got his hair. Good thing.
Anyway – I have a feeling we are going to be under this “Stay Home, Stay Healthy” order for a while longer … and even if the state doesn’t mandate it, I will probably volunteer to do so. I’m not willing to risk getting this covid crap.
So … I might just experiment with a color (again) as I grow this out. A month ago I put in blonde streaks (which ended up turning out more like polka dots on my head) … so, I might give one of the newer purple hues a try.
And if it’s a fail … I can bring back the scarves or just wear it in pigs. It’s not like anyone is going to see me anyway!