I always noticed and envied guys with curly hair. I perceived them as being more personable, exciting and energetic! They are so cool. Their “fire personality” usually sees them progressively reach the top of the food chain whether in the workplace or their social life as if it was their given right. Statistics bear this out as studies confirm these traits too, as well as proving more attractive than people with straight hair. That hurts! Why then did I not simply get a perm?
My hair was naturally bone straight no matter how much hair spray I used. Worse, it was limp. No volume at all. I learned how to back brush my hair to compensate. I yearned to have curly hair like those charming guys. One day I took the risk. I had sister-in-law who dabbled a bit. She offered to give my first hair permanent on the spot. I didn’t consider experience until she advised me, “If you are not happy with the job, there is nothing to be done except wait until it grows out”. I said, “Don’t worry, I just want to look sexy for a change”. Other than a chemical burn to my scalp, my hair did magically change from linear to spiral. In the aftermath of the hairdo, I couldn’t wait to be more appealing to others for a change.
I wondered what would be the reaction of my workmates. I was expecting a few comments, hopefully positive. The first employee that spotted me almost screamed OMG. The commotion brought others to see what was going on and disappointedly I began to hear some phrases like; too frizzy, too straggly. It was enough to make my hair stand straight up on end again! Then a real smarminess began: They said it looked trashy and dried up like an old potato. The girl from the accounting department tugged at my hair thinking it was a wig. Additional employees made a bee-line from other departments to join in the banter.
I barely survived that first day but by the end of the week, my new image was becoming tolerable to the others. The insults toned right down. I didn’t understand their negativity but found out after time that the remarks were mostly in jest. I still didn’t see it being that funny and I sure didn’t feel sexy any more. In fact, while in transit to and from work I felt that others were glancing at me in disapproval. What a fool! It would be months before my hair would be straight again.
Another hair-related horror was in Grade 2 at the Westmeath Public School. It was early in the year and hair-lice season was back. Of course, I got them too. After school, my father took me to the barber working at Blackwell’s General Store. A few others were there chatting. After I sat onto the board positioned on the arms of the barber chair just for kids, a chant of, “Cut it off, cut it off”, broke out. The barber lost control and there I was, bald as a billiard ball.
For two days I stayed home from school. On the third, I wore a leather cap to hide my bare head. Once seated in the classroom, the teacher Miss. Minnear, told me to remove my cap which I didn’t. She stormed down the aisle and yanked it off. That’s when, to my total embarrassment, the other kids all began laughing. After a few days the novelty wore off for them, but not for me.
A few years later I had another face-off with a different but questionable barber. On a Sunday afternoon he was cutting my hair when the power went out. His procedure was cutting the one side first. That’s when it happened. I went home with half a haircut. The other side was done the next day. I wish I had a picture of that time!
There were a few other incidents regarding hair but the biggest shock of all was when I was sitting with this lady deep in a conversation. Suddenly, she reached for her head and yanked off a wig to see my reaction. I didn’t know she wore one. I was totally paralyzed and speechless.
