Full of Greys: 3
Yesterday I had a quick hair appointment, and my stylist applied a clear glaze and trimmed my layers a little for summer. The glaze adds moisture and shine, and she lightly toned down the highlights that have been growing out since before Christmas. I think they are still somewhat brassy, but it doesn’t really bother me and I like being sort of blonde for a change.
She also straightened my hair, which she does to cut the layers and see the color. I always get compliments when I wear my hair this way, but the truth is that I hate it. I’m a curly girl at heart, and I don’t feel like myself with straight hair. I like the fuzzy halo around my head and neck, and straight hair on me just feels wrong. Before I had children, back when I had time to myself, I would wear my salon-straightened hair home and immediately wash the curls back into it, especially if I had somewhere to be. I hated the attention straight hair brought me, and I didn’t want people to see it at all. The inevitable, “You should always wear your hair like that!” comment made me cringe, so I did everything I could to avoid it.
Eventually, I embraced straight hair for special occasions, and paid for blowouts for my graduation from graduate school and my sister’s wedding. It’s okay for the world to see me with straight hair, just not on a regular basis.
I really love the longer blunt bobs that are so popular now, but I’ve finally come to realize that my hair will never look like that, and it’s okay. Once upon a time, I wanted my grown-up self to look something like Peggy Lipton on “Twin Peaks,” with very slight curls that were perfectly styled and perfectly restrained. But more recently, I watched an encore of Carole King’s Gershwin Prize performance and realized that my hair is a lot like hers, with heavier curls that can’t truly be cut into a cooperating bob.
King is most definitely a “Natural Woman,” and I am, too.