Much A “Do” About Nothing

We comb it. Cut it. Style it. Perm it. Straighten it. Highlight it. Shampoo it. Condition it. Slick it back. Braid it. Put it in a ponytail. Do it in a French Twist. We hate it. We love it. Hair.

I remember my Pa recalling my Grandma Nila losing her hair due to chemotherapy when I was in 2nd grade. He always said “a woman’s pride is in her hair”. I guess I can agree with his statement.

Since Ava’s birth, I haven’t highlighted my hair. Not purposely. Just to save a few bucks, I guess. I FINALLY made the decision a few months ago to grow my hair out for “Locks of love”, which is a non-profit organization that provides wigs to financially disadvantaged children under 18 suffering from long-term medical hair loss (any diagnosis). This decision worked out well, as Locks of Love doesn’t make wigs out of highlighted hair. I guess my decision was further confirmed by seeing my friend Melissa’s hair (already cut) alongside the donation envelope. The hair donation must be a minimum of 10 inches in length to be used for a hairpiece. So, if at any point in my life I could do this, the time is now.

When my sister told me she cut her hair recently, I told her about said donation. She embraced the idea a little too much, saying “Well, you HAVE had the same haircut your entire life.” This statement is true, too, minus the two perms with which I’ve tortured myself, and another time I cut my hair above shoulder-length (at which time Doug didn’t recognize me – another story for another day). My hair is just not perm-material.

Hair gets to a certain length, and it definitely becomes unmanageable. Mine has gotten to that point. I’m a no-fuss girl here in GA. Unless going out for a nice dinner, my hair usually gets pulled back into a ponytail fairly soon after showering. Not the most aesthetically-pleasing look, but functional none-the-less. A friend of mine years ago would cringe at the idea of another “chicky” not “doing” her hair daily. Not I, said the fly.

And 10 inches of hair to cut is no small feat! I get the tape-measure out occasionally to see how long my hair would be when I cut it. Nope, still too short. Still resisting the urge to frequent any place where shears might be found. It does become quite the time-consuming ordeal to blow-dry so much hair. I feel like Cousin It from the Addams Family! (I’m really exaggerating here). I also think, if I cut it today, that any winter trip to Michigan would be that much chillier.

So, if you see me around town looking like a Neanderthal hippie-woman who would be a great candidate for the “What Not To Wear” show, know this is only temporary. (Don’t volunteer me for the show, just yet). Or, if you care to join me in this endeavor, please DO (pun intended) :0)

http://www.locksoflove.org/

Peace, love and hair pomade,
Shelly