My genetic code stated “big hair.” The only time I really had fashionable hair was during the afro and windblown look eras. Most of the time this is of little concern to me. Frankly, Scarlett . . .
This spring I discovered itty bitty clips. Teeny little clips that you can barely open with grown-up hands. I twisted and clipped. No I didn’t see it in a fashion book, but it kept the stuff out of my mouth while working in the garden or on the masonry.
Eventually I became brave and wore the things in public. I had looked in the mirror a few times after placing them and while it didn’t make me look like Jennifer or Angelina, nothing would. My grandmother looked like Yenta from Fiddler and people have always equated me with her side of the family. I’m much taller and so not as cute. Back to my debut.
I wore them to an art forum and receive positive reviews, so I decided I keep my hair out of my mouth at church too. I’ve never concluded if the response was positive or not. Judge for yourself.
Oh, that looks so much better.
Gee Donna that’s a lot more attractive.
I mean, it takes years off your visual appearance.
You should wear your hair this way all the time, it looks so . . . neat.
I walked away from that saying to myself “Oh gee, thanks – I think.” What happened to “She reminds me of . . .oh you know that movie star.”? Life happened. The genetic code is not age appropriate. Then I asked my self, “Do I care? Have I ever really? No one likes an ambiguous comment, but does it matter?
I acted self-conscious for about a week. Then decided to wear my hair big and curly and down when I want to. I still keep the clippies. They keep it out of my mouth. Thanks Gramma.
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