My hair is nicer than Barbie’s and its about time

When I was 6, I received ‘Quick Curl Barbie’ for Christmas. Likely because she had curly hair like me. I didn’t have friends who had curly hair, they all had the lovely long straight blond hair of the 70’s. The kind that Jan and Marcia Brady had. I was a curly head brunette kid, who looked like a boy because of my short locks (Thanks Mom!).

Quick Curl Barbie was beautiful for one day. She had  synthetic hair with strands of wire woven into it. This was to ‘hold’ the curl in place – kind of like weaving pipe cleaners through your hair for that Pipi Longstocking look. Barbie came with a pink brush, comb and curling wand. Give those tools to a 6 year old and soon the beautiful Barbie had rats moving into her hair. The ends became all matted and knotted. Basically it looked like crap for the rest of the Barbie’s natural life. Funny…so did mine!

Quick curl Barbie #4220
Quick curl Barbie with new hair

Quick Curl Barbie the next day

Quick Curl Barbie the next day

Some time between starting this blog back in 201o and today, I lost my curl. I no longer have the tight curls of my youth except for the nape of my neck. Those critters are still curly like my baby curls. If I don’t flat-iron my hair, I have thick or big hair. It’s still straight but just bigger. Swimming made a mess of my hair and my hair dresser reprimanded me regularly. I decided I needed to let my hair grow out so I could get a proper cut. My hair had become the exact same as Quick Curl Barbie. Wiry, stiff and a weird not blond colour. It had grown past my shoulders – only when I straightened it could you tell it was that long, and I was tired of the ugly hair. Time had come for an appointment to cut it all off.

I went into the stylists and told her what I had been doing and why. Then I said, “I trust you, do what you need to do to fix it and I want to look sassy because, quite frankly I need hair to match my personality.” She told me she loved it when she was given free rein, and off to the sink we went.

Hair Stylist – “So tell me, how blonde were you as a kid? Because the blonde is holding up really well!”

Me – “I have never been blonde in my life”

HS – “um…yes you are.”

Me – “WTF? 45 and NOW I get the Long Blonde Straight hair of my dreams? Oh sweetie, that is GREY hair mixed with my BROWN hair.”

HS – “If we add some foils of Dark Brown and Blonde, use your natural colour as the base, you will look like you have always been blonde.”

Me – “Do it.”

So not only do I have the best cut I have ever had in my life (from a girl who was BORN IN THE 90’s!!), I now have long straight hair and will look like I am a natural blonde with highlights and lowlights by Thursday. Dreams DO come true.

Suck it Barbie, my hair is now NICER than YOURS.

Hair Challenged or Glue Challenged?

I have come to the conclusion that I am hair challenged. My brand new hair style is impossible for me to keep up with. I spent countless hours 45 minutes this morning trying to re-create what my Hair Guru did for me on Wednesday. My sister is trying to help me, but I may be one of those hopeless causes.

Hair isn’t the only thing I am challenged at. I have glue issues too. My girl friends can attest to this. I am the gal at the scrapbook table looking for small pieces of paper that I have painstakingly cut out only to lose those tiny pieces that are crucial to my design.  Then, hours later, my friend will glance at my hair and there it is. Stuck with tape or glue to my hair. I kid you not. Maybe it has every thing to do with my hair and nothing at all to do my ability to use glue, tape or a flat iron.

When I was little, I had the worst hair. I mean the WORST hair imaginable on a girl. Followed years later by my sister. Our mother was helpless in the batter of our hair. Those were the days before useful hair product. Hair spray and Brill Cream was available, but seriously…not suitable for the clown hair we sported. I dreamed of long flowing locks of gold that were straight and shiny.  I was blessed with hair that curled in clumps. I could feel it move on my scalp. I was often called a boy. It didn’t help that my name was more popular for boys than girls.

I remember being 5 and arguing with another 5 year old about whether or not I was indeed a girl. To prove it I showed her my undershirt which had a lovely bow fastened on the front. My argument was what boy would wear a bow? That’s right, she had no response. Clearly my brains were too much for her. My argumentative and reasoning skills have always been second to none. Ask my poor mom.

When I was in High School, I remember sitting in front of my mirror learning how to use hair products and irons. I am great at styling 80’s hair. The problem is it is 2011. 80’s just isn’t ok anymore, and who are we kidding, was it every really ok?

I have with me a list of hair product and flat iron tools that my sister insists I need to keep my hair looking like my Hair Guru did it on Wednesday. Apparently this will cost me more money.


Then I think I need to sit in front of my mirror and practice until I have perfected the skill. That doesn’t thrill me. I am 43 not 14. Clearly I need the practice, but golly GEE WHIZ! I need this skill if I am to continue forward with the new me. I have found a jacket that does not look like a colourful circus tent! YAY ME! I found fantastic boots that say – Adult not camp counselor. Now I need the hair. After the hair… jewelry that pulls it together.

I’m getting there, but I need my sister to come over first.

A lot to be said for hats…

No, I Actually Pay to Have My Hair Look Like This.

The year was 1984. I had HUGE 80’s hair and I needed a drastic change. My girlfriends and I went to see Against All Odds with Rachel Ward. I can’t tell you anything about the movie except how great her hair looked! It was short, curly and dark, coincidentally the same as mine! I left the theater with the movie magazine in hand and marched off to my hairdresser. She looked at it for several minutes then started cutting. I emerged sporting a sexy new ‘do! The sad and tragic news of that day is, that hairstyle stayed with me for 2 decades.

I realized I needed to look in the mirror when I started teasing people with the same feathered locks they sported in high school. I would think to myself and when I say “myself” I mean out loud, Welcome to 1979! Time to join the 21st century people! Eh hem! Look here missy, you have no room to talk! Wow, I was one of those sad people who couldn’t leave their past behind.

Time to march myself off to the hairdresser again. This time I picked someone new. Someone who was young and hip, someone who was current. I confessed to her and she told me what I needed to do. Grow my hair out, and see her regularly to keep it looking nice-ish while it was growing. I could do this, not a problem.

So time passed, and I saw her every 4 weeks while the hair was growing. Then suddenly, it was time. A new hairstyle was born! I really like her because she encourages me to try new things. She attempts to keep me as current as my hair will allow. Now remember I have Clown Hair, so styles are limited but we try.

Fast forward to my vacation in Europe. I had Clown Hair Extreme. The humidity was off the scale, not quite Florida, but it was a far cry from my dry as toast prairie home. My hair was long and fuzzy, about a sexy as the Jewish reporter on Glee. I was desperate. After arriving home, I lasted two days. I needed my hairdresser. So off I went to get a new ‘do! She chopped about 6″ off, it was light, flowing in a fluffy soft way. Curls were defined. It was cute! I loved it! Then I went to work…

My team didn’t notice. When I said I got almost 6″ cut off, my co-worker said “Really? It looks the same!” Gee… Thanks? I take a risk and get half a foot of hair removed and it looks the same? Awesome.

So where does that leave me for my next risky hair do? I guess I will dye it Granny Blue because I already have the Permanent.

Nice ‘fro! Did you pay to have it look that?

There is something so fabulous about a Drag Show! I was continuing my further adventures through Fringing by attending Guys in Disguise Classic III in 3D.  This had to be my 8 or 9th Drag show spanning 2 decades and I dragged hauled my hubby to this one. It was his first AND he liked it! I love how feminine and girlie and risque the Ladies are. I am kind of jealous actually!

The Google Dictionary describes Feminine as:

fem·i·nine Adjective

  • Having qualities or appearance traditionally associated with women, esp. delicacy and prettiness
    • a feminine frilled blouse

I always have looked at the very feminine women in my life and felt a tiny bit envious. Not completely envious…just a tiny bit. For those of you who know me and those you don’t, delicate is not a word that one would use to describe me. As a child I was always compared to Lucy, from the Peanuts. “Bull in a china shop” might be another phrase you could use to describe me. I was never the girl with the hair and make up and dressed to the nines. Maybe briefly during high school, but high school doesn’t count because I wasn’t a fully developed human being yet. I was still trying to figure “it” out. Besides, High School was the 80’s, AND WE ALL KNOW 80’s FASHION WAS GHASTLY! So, no, High School does not count.

Besides, I was cursed blessed with curly hair. The ONLY time my curly hair has been feminine was during the 80’s when big hair was “totally awesome!”.  Curly hair has a mind of it’s own. I remember sitting in front of my mirror every morning before school. Blowing my hair out, curling it, gelling it, until it didn’t look like I stuck my finger in a socket any more. Then off to school I would trot. Once sitting in class, I could actually feel my hair move. All that hard work making my hair looked “totally RAD!” would be for not. No, my hair hated me. It would lay in wait for me to be busy, focused on other things and then it would make it’s move. SPROING! I would leave class with bed head. Yes! I was “totally psyched!” Okay, so I lied, my hair wasn’t even feminine in the 80’s.

What does it feel like to have long gorgeous locks of hair that does what you ask it too and behaves like it loves you? I have a fantastic hair stylist who is reasonably great with my hair. Let’s face it, she is doing the best she can with my hair. Maybe the Drag Queens have got it right. They wear SYNTHETIC hair. I could do that. I could change out my hair everyday and look FABULOUS too! But to be feminine, I would need more then hair. Gigantic feet do not look cute and sexy in a size 10 sling back. True, my eyebrows need pruning, mascara wouldn’t hurt, maybe a pedicure and a manicure would help. So even if the Guys in Disguise gave me a makeover, would feminine be a word you would use to describe me? I can hear you laughing. True, it would take more then a make over.

If being feminine was really important to me, do you think I would have done something about it?  Likely – okay, most definitely. Do I think it is an important part of my tourist exploration? Maybe a little because it is a new avenue and one I have never been down before. Maybe I will start with shoes and a handbag, maybe some great earrings. But PLEASE if I ever start to look like the people of Wal-Mart. Just let me know.