The history of bad hair

I often say I have chronic bad hair.  I think most people probably read that and think “haha, cute” and go on with their day, not realizing that I am being 100% honest and truthful.

Last Friday, I went to a local hair cutting place intent on hopefully, at last, getting a hairstyle that doesn’t look like this:

Roseanna Roseannadanna aka Gilda Radner

Roseanna Roseannadanna aka Gilda Radner

I walked into the hair salon and sat down on the turning chair and began giving Carole, the hairdresser, a rundown on the malady and affliction that is my hair.  I told her right away that I was cosmetically challenged (read, please don’t suggest I purchase a $150 flat iron or nine different hair products) and when she just laughed, I told her about past hairstyles to prove it.  There was the poofy bang phase, the times I tried to use a curling iron only to realize I was using it backwards so I had that oh, so beautiful crimp right on the edge of my bangs and the mullet with the feathered sides.  I told her how my hair is very frizzy, especially like right now, when it is, as Robin Williams says in Good Morning, Vietnam, like the setting for London Broil outside.  She just laughed again.

Soon we were talking about more personal things like where we were from and children and marriage.  I usually leave ministry-related things out of my doings with most folks, not because I am ashamed of it, but history has taught me that keeping my mouth shut has its benefits and shouting from the rooftops that I have a theology degree usually clams people up.  But somehow I let it slip that my husband was a pastor and we were preparing to start a church in the near future.  I saw her in the mirror raise both hands, look to the ceiling and mouth “Thank you!”.  I wondered just how bad her day had been. 

Carole began to tell me about her husband who passed away several years ago at too young of an age.  She told me how her son had withdrawn into himself and didn’t share his grief with anyone.  She told me how she had been taught not to cry.  I asked questions now and then, but kept my comments to a minimun, because I sensed she just needed to be the one to talk.  She told me that when her husband had passed, that she handled it in an unhealthy way, which I took to mean she turned to the party scene, or something equivalent.  She told me that she had been very angry with God.  Here is where I said as kindly as I could, “He can handle that, you know.  God is big enough to handle your anger.”  And then I shut up again.

All the while, Carole had been chopping away at my hair.  The only instruction I had given her was that I was trying to grow my hair out long, despite my belief that older women with long hair looked ridiculous, like women trying to look like teenagers.  Despite that belief, I wanted to grow my hair out.  I had been looking at her face as she was cutting so I didn’t realize until later that she had been using a razor and had not been shy about it.  There was enough hair beneath my chair to stuff a pillow (remember that episode on Frasier where Frasier dates that hippy woman who cut her hair and stuffed it into a pillow?  Funny…)  Then she began to actually fix my hair.  Using a hairdryer, a flat iron and a curling iron, she made my hair actually behave. 

We had reached the end of our appointment.  I asked Carole what I needed to use to make it look as good as she had made it look.  She told me I needed to go out and buy a flat iron, some hair spray and a big round brush.  Sheesh, so much for being cosmetically challenged.

Ya’ll just don’t know.  I’ve had the worst hairstyles imagineable.  Want some proof?  Here’s 12 examples of my rotten style.  *WARNING*  If you have something in your mouth like gum, spit it out lest you choke on laughter.

12.

The rat-tail hairstyle.

The rat-tail hairstyle.

You can’t see it, but there is a sizeable rat-tail dangling from the back of my head.  Why my mother let me walk out of the hair salon with a rat-tail is a mystery.  Also notice in the picture that my shorts are shorter than the hem of my shirt.  Nice.

11.

Boy hair.

Boy hair.

Apparently I tired of the rat-tail look and decided to look just like a boy.  Notice the multi-colored shirt.  You can’t see them, but I’m also wearing stirrup pants.  Sigh, it only gets worse, folks.

10.

Awkward and gawky at 11 years of age.

Awkward and gawky at 11 years of age.

What’s better than a boy haircut?  Growing out that boy haircut.  I especially like how I’ve buttoned the top button on my shirt.

9. 

Punk rock girls.

Punk rock girls.

…There are no words.  Squint really hard and you’ll see we have gold hoop earrings in our noses.  Also, those are bermuda shorts that are folded up. 

8. 

Family picture, sans my mom because there was no room due to poofy hair.

Family picture, sans my mom because there was no room due to poofy hair.

Wow.  Blame humidity.  Blame hairspray.  Blame Olan Mills. 

7. 

7th grade

7th grade

Notice the skin tight acid wash jeans, the rolled up sleeves and the friendship bracelets.  This was soon after the mullet ‘do.  And yes, I was expecting a flood.

6. 

8th grade prom

8th grade prom

Apparently, I lost the memo that pink lace was in style and chose to go with classy black.  I’m never on the same page as everyone else.  And you can’t see it, but in my left ear is a large peace sign earring.  My BFF was wearing the other one.

5. 

Tacky tacky tacky

Tacky tacky tacky

Why, yes that is a hockey jersey underneath that neon-colored winter coat!  What a good eye you have!

4. 

10th grade winter dance

10th grade winter dance

Wear a dark color for a winter dance?  Nay nay!  Let’s go for the bridesmaid dress I wore to my mother’s wedding!  Yes!  A sure fire way to NOT be asked for a dance by a member of the opposite sex!  Also, how did you fix your hair, Kearsie?  Nothing to it, I just slicked it into a sloppy ponytail!

3.

School IDs, precursors to bad DMV photos

School IDs, precursors to bad DMV photos

The top one is of 9th grade.  I call it “the Ogilvie Home Perm disaster of ’89”.  The bottom one is 11th grade, looking stoned.  No narcotics were used, I promise.  The middle one is my senior year.  No eye contact with the camera, no smile. 

2. 

No bangs = klingon forehead

No bangs = klingon forehead

This was our first real family photo.  I’m wearing a man’s sweater that is at least 4 sizes too large and I’ve given up attempting stylish hair and shoved it all into a hair clip.  I’ll wear this hairstyle for several years, unfortunately.

1. 

What I call "The Jumper Years"

What I call "The Jumper Years"

This was at a wedding for some friends of ours.  Lance cut out the wedding party, because frankly it just looked sad with the gorgeous bride standing next to shapeless me.  But look how cute Emma was!

So you can imagine my delight when I finally looked in the mirror and saw how nice my hair looked after Carole hacked most of it off.  Here’s a picture.

New hairstyle

New hairstyle

However, now I’ll need to find, purchase and learn how to use one of these scary contraptions.
The Flat-Iron.

The Flat-Iron.

Thank you for joining me on my walk of shame.  Maybe next time I’ll show the pictures of the Granola Girl phase, aka do absolutely as little as possible with my hair or the discovery of mousse and crusty hair. 
Advertisements

15 responses to this post.

  1. Once again proof that people arn’t stylish because they’re homeschooled-they’re just not stylish. I’ve worn my fair share of short black jeans, weird brown leather shoes, t-shirts with stupid slogans on them, and terrible hair (when I was 21!)

    Reply

  2. Posted by soundsliketomatoes on July 22, 2008 at 6:17 pm

    Ouch, Joel. Truth is a double edged sword, indeed.

    Reply

  3. I needed more of a warning, because I almost woke up Rachael with my giggling, I’m sure of it. She probably stirred. You were adorable the whole time. And if it makes you feel better, I had the rat tail as well, and one year when I went to get my school picture taken the photographer called me “Laverne AND Shirley” because of my half-grown-out perm.

    Your hair looks GREAT, and a flat iron is super easy to use. If I can get a grip on it, so can you!

    By the way, though, I have longer hair than you, and I hope I don’t look like I’m just trying to look young! I’m also attempting to grow it out for Locks of Love though, so it’s going to have to be very long before I’ll be willing to hack 10 inches off.

    Reply

  4. Posted by soundsliketomatoes on July 22, 2008 at 8:05 pm

    I regretted that whole long hair thing the moment this floated off into cyberspace. And now I’m DYING to see some of your bad hair pics!

    Reply

  5. Posted by Kamryn on July 22, 2008 at 10:27 pm

    Let’s see…
    Picture number 8 highlights what I refer to as my “buffalo head” years. Too bad there are no pictures of me with my spiky bangs. Your senior year ID card photo looks NOTHING like you!!! I actually thought that was a hoax until I saw your signature…which is proof your last name used to be Kaufman, not Kauf as depicted by your pre-marital signature. 🙂 Picture number two reminds me of me with my hair cliped back. Jared, at every opportunity, will check to see if I have a fivehead instead of a forehead.
    As for the straight iron….live it…be it…it is your friend…. try putting half of your hair up in a clip and straightening small sections. Then, let a little bit more hair down at a time and repeat. It gets easier. Remember me asking you to help me blow dry my hair with a round brush when I lived in NC? 🙂

    Reply

  6. Posted by fivemoreminutesplease on July 23, 2008 at 2:14 am

    I almost peed my pants!! Makes me want to go digging through my pictures. I can’t get enough of your writing.

    Reply

  7. Are you kidding? Like I kept those pictures. I will show the ONE picture I showed to at our “Blast From the Past” girls’ night out. It’s me in 4th grade. Glasses. Curly/straight hair. Crooked smile. All I have to do is mention it and one of my friends starts laughing at me.

    Reply

  8. Posted by tr3n1ty on July 23, 2008 at 9:35 pm

    I feel your pain. I see your jumper years and raise you with my spandex years where all I wore were huge tshirts and spandex pants. I didn’t even own a single pair of jeans. Attractive.

    As a matter of fact, I think I went shopping with you for the first pair of jeans I owned in years! Wasn’t that when we found out we had the same butt?

    Also… I didn’t let anyone take any photographic evidence.

    Reply

  9. Posted by soundsliketomatoes on July 23, 2008 at 10:01 pm

    We have the same butt? As in, giant shelf on which you can tote a Coke? How cool! I don’t think I ever owned any spandex but I DID leave the house on NUMEROUS occassions in sweat pants. SEXY.

    Reply

  10. Posted by tr3n1ty on July 24, 2008 at 12:03 am

    Ah, we were both young and fresh and attractive at the time (you had the better haircut and I have the pics to prove it – it was really(!) hard to dodge Melissa), our butts weren’t as huge as they are now. I’ll have you know I can now tote a whole tub of KFC on my buns.

    (er, not really but I couldn’t let that pass without a one-up)

    Reply

  11. Posted by Tiffany on July 26, 2008 at 3:54 am

    This is great! 🙂 Ahhhh …. the memories! Thanks for sharing …. now I don’t feel all alone … There were other dorks out there too !! ha 🙂

    Reply

  12. Posted by Jennifer on July 27, 2008 at 4:16 am

    Umm….your new hairstyle is awesome! I’m totally jealous. ha! Good luck with the flat iron. I have the straightest hair in the world yet still tried to use one on my head with no luck. I do believe however that you will conquer the dreadful flat iron and successfully replicate what said Carole did with your hair…and probably better because you know your hair better than anyone. Keep your readers posted with some pics!

    Reply

  13. Posted by Misty on July 27, 2008 at 5:17 am

    Alas, the only good hair days I had were right out of the hair salon or when I’ve had it pretty short and high lighted! Well, maybe after my senior year it was alright. I personally loved your long curly hair!

    Reply

  14. Posted by Mom on August 1, 2008 at 7:37 pm

    Um, EXCUSE me but that rat tailed haircut was given to you WITH LOVE by your Aunt Melissa on one of her wonderful “Take Kearis for the weekend and spoil her” dates and you loved it. Everybody had the same cut…it was hard to find you in a crowd in the mall! Love pix #2 where you are growling at the camera….your senior ID shot looks more like a mug shot, but I guess being in High School is pretty much the same thing. Love the new hair, good luck with the flat iron, I never mastered the use of hair utensils…I use my blow dryer to dust and a curling iron to fix recycled ribbon for presents (see, I DO recycle!)

    Reply

  15. Posted by Carrie Mace on June 7, 2009 at 4:26 am

    LOL I too am cosmetically challenged and feel we are now bonded for life

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: