I have put my hair through some THINGS! Oh Troll, just remembering the horror of the q-tip, aka Tinkerbell, fiasco leaves me wondering how I could have had hated myself so much.
Actually, when you think about this conundrum, it may be just the opposite. Maybe I had such high self esteem that I thought I looked good... No matter what...
That's gotta be some sort of inflated ego syndrome... or it’s just downright denial… or I was delusional… either way I had some ugg-o hair
But let’s start at the beginning and place proper blame where it belongs… with my mother.
|Don't even get me started on those glasses!|
Fast forward a few years and we arrive at the summer before my senior year of high school. My boyfriend at the time thought it would be so cool to make me blond. So I let him and his friend assault me with bleach. And my bad hair choices have spiraled out of control since then.
|Please someone, notice the eyebrows|
And then a perm!!! Why, WHY for the love of Troll, did I not learn from my mistake after getting my first perm at 8 years old? Hair rule #2 (right after Don't Cut Your Own Bangs) is Never Get a Perm. I’m fairly confident in saying I’ve had about 9 perms throughout my life. And one of those my mom did for me at home. Never. Ever. In the history of perms which are already a bad idea, is it ok to let your mom do an at-home perm. Never.
For some reason, this perm is also pink. Someone else should be making my hair decisions.
But boring. oh so boring!!
I then started experimenting with red. I love red hair and wish I had it. If I were a guy I would definitely be into redheads. It took me a couple tries to get it right and it was amazing. Amazing I tell you!
The salon's hair-washer/want-to-be-stylist told me that I would soon develop redorexia… It can never be red enough.
And she was right.
|Look at my beautiful shinny red hair!!!|
I loved my red hair, but as it faded (which red is known to do, frequently) I had to re-dye. Salon quality red is the only thing I’ll trust. My black hair can come from a box and look perfectly fine. Red cannot. That’s how you get pink hair my friends. So I had a fatal choice to make. Do I continue to pay $300 every time I needed to get my hair done?
Before you have a heart attack and die from the price, remember that I live in New York. But please, proceed with the heart attack and imminent death because this is clearly an absurd amount to pay for one’s hair.
And sadly I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. Maybe one day when I’m filthy rich from my best selling novels I’ll by ludicrous extravagances like art, shoes, and red hair, but until then I’d better use my money for more important things like food and electricity.
So with a sad soul I had the hairdresser dye my locks (sit down for this) my natural color. It has been 11 years that I've been hiding this pathetic excuse for a brown mop that resides on my head. I wasn’t happy about this decision, but in an effort to save money (and really, I’m not the type of person to spend $300 on my hair of all things) I had to make the choice.
AND NOW!! After all I’ve put my hair through with the perming, dying and multi colored highlights and tints you know what really chaps my ass?
This natural, luster-lacking, dead sewer rat brown I’ve tried diligently to hide all these years receives the most compliments. Out of any color ever to dazzle my tresses, my natural color is the most flattering?
Really people, really?!!!