According to a woman who once spent four hours highlighting my hair, I have more hair per square inch than most people. This means not only do I have very, very dense breast tissue, I apparently also have very, very dense hair follicles. This must be why, despite the fact that I currently sporting the same haircut as Halle Berry, and Pink, my hair does not look awesome and funky like theirs. My dense follicles and the lack of stylist, diet and focus - but I digress. Halle's and Pink's hair looks like this. Really. I’m not exaggerating. It’s so high when it's combed out that I wouldn’t even let husband take a picture despite his coxing and attempts to laugh me into it. He kept asking what scared me. Ass.
If it were shorter on top, my cut right now would be about the same cut I had most of high school – minus the three cool braids with beads hanging from my ‘bangs.’ The same haircut that came to be because I went to a salon and told the person to make it look good, just like they do in the movies. But, unlike the movies where the girl comes out with a gorgeous makeover and wins the movie, this lady used scissors and a shaver all over my head and then picked it out so I couldn’t see the spots that she'd cut shorter than the others. That haircut became a short on the sides and back and longer on the top haircut because when you try to fix your haircut in the bathroom with a shaver, the sides are never equal and you keep going shorter trying to “even them out.” It’s how I’ve been bald so many times. Bald is the answer to the hair question. Bald is easy; just shave every two weeks and wear lots of hats. But bald means no style. And bald means having to have the confidence to carry it off, the hutzpah, and the attitude. Sometimes, when my self is dark and hurting, bald is too much attention. It is just amazing to me how much time I spend thinking about my hair. I am a low maintenance person – on the physical end that is. I don’t wear make up. I seldom deviate from my jeans and top and shaggy sweater look. Lately I don’t even wear much jewelry. My bizarre one earring collection is gathering dust. But my hair, like my emotion maintenance, is a holy mess of needs and wants and, despite the fact that I'm sporting same look I've always had, my hair is an obsession I cannot seem to let go of. My attempt to differentiate between emotional maintenance and physical maintenance notwithstanding, my sense of emotional self will always dictate my sense of physical self. Obvious I know but most people don’t even it out how they’re feeling by taking a shaver to their head in the bathroom. My physical self is often sporting looks my emotional self has dictated, usually never flattering. Husband likes to say that I should stay away from mirrors when I'm feeling angsty. That he should hide the shaver from me and any sign of a deep sigh. I would take him seriously if it weren’t for the fact he spent the weekend looking at my Kid and Play hair and asking me what scared me so badly while laughing so hard, he almost pissed himself. Or that I came home from the grocery store on Saturday and he had shaved his head. Like minds, people. Like crazy minds. I had my hair cut the other day and the woman cutting it laughed out loud when I told her I wanted it to look like Halle Berry’s. And then she twisted it and laughed even harder when I told her I now looked like Kriss Kross. I’m going to just have to settle for being me. Dammit.
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AuthorMy name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me Archives
April 2019
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