I have never reached an orgasm from washing my hair in the way that the commercials promise me. Never. Not even when I buy the shampoo that should be made from crushed diamonds and distilled elephant saliva because it is so expensive. When I toss my head with abandon like the women in hair commercials it gives me a headache. I suspect this is due to the velocity of my brain smacking into the side of my skull. It may look flirty, but it isn’t worth the brain injury.
I have spent roughly a zillion dollars in my lifetime on hair cuts or hair products all designed to give me good hair. If I had just saved up the money I could be retired and living in the Bahamas by now. I would be bald, but with the savings I could get a hat.
I always wanted really good hair. Good hair being defined as the opposite of whatever I have. When it is curly I wish I could get it straight, when it is straight, I wish it had a bit of bounce. If I have short hair I want to wear it up, once I grow it long I think I would look snappier with a chic short cut. At any given time it is either too light or too dark. My hair has been a near constant source of stress in my life. In most photos I look like I am wearing a stuffed weasel on my head. A weasel with mange. This is not a look I am trying to cultivate, it just seems to happen.
Then there is the bad cut syndrome…
I too have suffered the childhood trauma of the Dorothy Hamill cut. Curse you Dorothy you skating vixen! Then there was the poorly planned asymmetrical hair cut. I have a school photo of this one. I am looking jauntily out at the camera wearing my blue vest and skinny black leather tie (fashion has been another challenge for me) with hair that looks like only one side of my head was trapped in the paper shredder.
As I was a teen of the 80’s, I went through a period where I liked really LARGE hair. Pump up the volume as it were. The hair to face ratio in these photos is significantly skewed.
The past few years I’ve gone with safe hair. It isn’t a style where people stop me on the street and ask me where I got it cut, but then again they also don’t stop me and ask what happened. For now I’ll content myself with trying out a few more of these fancy shampoos and seeing how that works out.
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