I have never had a good relationship with my hair. I realize that statement sounds slightly daft but my hair and I just don’t get along. Maybe the bad feeling developed very early. As a small child, my hair was sparse. My mother told me she became annoyed when I wore dear little smocked dresses and strangers still asked if I were a boy. .
Mum believed that shorter was better and she never encouraged my sister or me to have long hair. That was fine for my sister who had no trouble growing a head full of lovely blonde curls. My hair was black, very straight and very fine. The style was simple; parted on the right side with a hank of hair held together with a rubber (elastic) band. This was covered by a ribbon tied in a floppy bow. I wore my hair like this until I went to boarding school and refused to take a ribbon with me. For the next four years, my hair was short and plain. I didn’t actually mind as it was easy to maintain.
Other teenagers wore rollers to get waves or curls and used hair spray but unless a hairdresser added anything to my hair, it stayed productless. And I have gone back to that mindset. I was amused recently when I went for a hair cut and the stylist asked what products I used. She looked most disapproving when I told her i didn’t use any. I am sure she already knew that before she asked the question.
I haven’t always had short straight black hair. when I was pregnant with my first child, I decided to grow it. I soon discovered that it was annoying to have hair flapping around my face wen I was bathing a baby or changing her diapers. And when my daughter grew older, she liked to grab my hair. So I usually wore it tied severely back, making me look even more like a conventional teacher or librarian.
Over the years, I have had permanent waves to acquire curls. One of my grandchildren saw an old photo of me with masses of curls and laughed. I guess it did look strange to him. The colour of my hair has changed too. Both my parents went grey and then white fairly early in life and so did I. My son has inherited this gene. I turned my grey into blonde for a while before I decided to let the blonde grow out and my natural colour appear. This turned out to be silver. I have waited for many years for the silver to become white to give me a head of pure white hair like my mother’s. But it hasn’t. Some people tell me the silver is attractive but as I am never happy with my hair, I’d prefer it to be white. And maybe with a little wave like my dad had in his hair.
Hairwise, I am boring. I want to be able to wash my hair regularly, comb it into place and then allow it to dry naturally. Maybe next time, I’ll investigate other parts of my body like teeth and eyes. I am not that thrilled with them either.