Thursday, August 1, 2013

The Curls of Consternation

My hair! My hair!

For all of my life I have had a perpetual war with my hair. When I was a teenager I wanted it to be straight, straight, straight just like my bestie Nancy.


See! She has lovely straight hair and I….well….I do not. A day of skiing would find my hair a riot of curliness.


Then there were the “lost years”. Brush my hair? Why would I want to do a think like that? Wash it regularly? Perish the thought.

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Even the poodle had better grooming than I did. And lest you think that is my dog…it was NOT! That thing belonged to my piano teacher who liked the dog better than she liked me. Look, that thing has it’s paws on the piano keys. I had to wash my hands before I ever touched her sainted ivories.

Deep breathing. Deep breathing.

Where was I?

14th birthday olives

Of course there were the years where I tried every style under the sun that involved smooth, shiny hair with nary a curl out of place, neatly tucked under….

No, it never worked despite the hours and hours with hot rollers and blow dryers and curling irons.


Oh my gosh our hair looks AWESOME……

And I am guessing that mine looked that good for about five minutes, or at least until I got to the front door of Alexander dorm. This was in Texas after all where it stays nice and warm and humid into November.

Not good hair weather for someone who looks like the Bride of Frankenstein on humid days.

It’s HUMID!!!

So then I decided, after Shoe Queen was born, that I would free myself from the trapping of long hair because I was obviously not meant to have long hair.

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In terms of my short hair, this was actually a longer cut. I am not even going to show you how short it was. I don’t want to scare you.

I don’t want to remind myself.

Just think of the fact that I had my hair cut every 6 weeks like clock work and she used clippers.

Yeah, that short.

And then in 2006 I decided to grow my hair out. I looked at myself in the mirror and knew it was time for a change. But oh how I hated the prospect. It was almost enough of a pain in my big fat bahookie that I abandoned the entire endeavor.


For months I looked like a crazed poodle.

And obviously in this picture my eyebrows hadn’t been anywhere near a pair of tweezers in a long time.

I was visiting Ghana for Pete’s sake! It was hot and humid. Give me a break.

But finally the hair was long. But still unruly. I still blew it dry on a daily basis…which took 30 minutes at least. And then someone clued me in that I could put some gel in it to tame the frizzy look.

And when I did……

There were curls.

Wait!!! Where did these things come from. These sproingy little curls that just appeared on their own. Could this be my hair? I…..I……I…..



So lovely. So curly. So………reactive still to humidity.

Oh yes, my curls were lovely and curly…as long as it was dry like Southern Arizona. But by the end of the day it was not so lovely. And then I would brush my hair and we would be right back to Bride of Frankenstein. One day out of three (I wash my hair every three days if you must know) days for a semi good hair day does not a happy Debbie make.

And then my friend Mandi, who is a hair stylist, mentioned that she could help me. She sang the virtues of a product called Ouidad. She used it in the salon. She was “trained” in it’s use.

Trained? You had to be trained?

She said it would help me. It would flatten my frizzified follicles. It would tame my tangled tresses.


But I am always up for a new experience so Monday found me in a foreign salon, having some young chickie wash my hair in what can only be described as a slowly pornographic way (was it as good for her as it was for me?) and then being whisked over to “the chair” to have Mandi and her apprentice school me in “The Ouidad Way”. For some reason I felt like I should stand up and shout, “Hallelujah!” as one point.

I had no expectations. I had no hopes. I had been disappointed before.

I was wrong.

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Holy cow Andy the curls were fabulosity. And the crazy thing? Well, as long as I don’t get a brush anywhere near these babies and I just scrunch the whole wad up in a bun on top of my head at night…..the curls will last for three days.

I was stunned.

I was over joyed.

I was scared to death.

I went home with a bag full of product and instructions. Yeah, this was the first time that I have ever had detailed instructions as to how to use hair care products. The whole “follow these steps exactly” nature of the Ouidad experience gave me pause. What if I didn’t do this exactly as written. What would happen? Would someone come and take away my product?

Oh the pressure!!!

Deep breathing Deb! You can do this!

Of course today was the first day that I worked with the product all by my lonesome in my bathroom. It is a bit more difficult (insert sarcasm here) than just sitting in the chair and having Mandi work on me. I almost sent Mandi a txt saying “HELP” (she would have answered. She always does). The curls don’t look quite as good as they did when Mandi did my hair but she assures me that with practice they will always look fabulous.

Let’s hope so.

But so far so good.

But the only hitch in my hair horizon is that now I have to take this stuff with me when I travel. Cuz I ain’t goin’ back sistah!


  1. love the pictorial hair history - AMAZING

    1. I could have put up endless pictures of my hair disasters.

  2. A truly epic hair chronicle, and I also love the poodle and LARGE can of Large Ripe Olives! How do you pronounce Ouidad? Glad your hair will look terrific for the wedding and moving!

  3. Practice makes perfect, like the piano! Thanks for making me laugh out loud about the poodle, not your hair. Your hair looked beautiful!


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