Hair!

Speaking about my father’s love of my mother’s exotic looks, one story he liked to tell was how much he admired her dark, long hair.  It was very thick, quite long, and extremely dark brown.  Having read some romantic novels where the hero runs his hands through the heroines long hair he was inspired to do so on one of his first dates with Mom.  What did he hear?

            “My hair, please don’t touch my hair!”

            Cold water on the ardent lover!

            It was a refrain he heard many times in their married life.  It was her hair this, her hair that.  She couldn’t go out until she’d done her hair.  My mother had to have perfect hair even to do her grocery shopping (no word of a lie – my mother was well into her fifties before I ever saw her go grocery shopping in slacks.  She always, always wore a skirt when she went shopping – even in Winnipeg in -40 degree weather).  Her hair was always perfectly coifed, she always wore foundation and lipstick.  My mother set the standard for all her daughters and I have to admit I don’t go beyond my property without wearing lipstick.  [When I was in Cuba I wore lipstick down to the beach and one of the ladies I met there told me her companion had commented on how shocking that I would wear lipstick to the beach – I didn’t dare admit that I also was wearing foundation!  True story.]

            Imagine Dad’s dismay when he had 3 teenage daughters who were also throwing hissy fits when their hair didn’t sit just so!  We have a lot of hair in our family which is nice (no worries about going bald) but we are also very sensitive about how it looks.  My one niece has a penchant for hats to cover up her bad hair days, but then she has a good face for hats.  The rest of us are not so fortunate!  Sometimes I’ve had to wash my hair twice in order for it to be decent enough to walk outdoors.  A real problem for me is that my hair is so thick that it takes a long time to dry naturally and in the winter time using the blow dryer makes the hair super dry.

            I used to chuckle when my mother would get impatient with her hair but these days I feel her pain almost every day.  Mother Nature has a way of making things come around to the next generation.  I miss the ‘60’s when hair was supposed to be ignored.  Long, straight, parted in the middle and just let it go!