By Mary Jane Maffini aka half of Victoria Abbott
Hair today, gone tomorrow is the old joke. I should be so lucky! I have the worst misbehaving hair in the world, and even though I have (by some miracle) gone prematurely blonde, I still struggle with not looking too scary if I must leave the house.
Here’s the thing: my Celtic heritage has left me with soft waves. Nice, you might think, and it would be nice if any two of those waves were near each other. But, nooo, they’re here and there, growing next to stick straight hanks of yellow hair that refuse to curl, wave or behave.
Then there are the rebellious cowlicks: four of them, two on the bangs and two on the hairline. They rule out a whole lot of stylin’ possibilities.
After a shampoo and a blowdry, the hair will behave for one day (if no hats are involved) most times, or for fifteen minutes on a humid summer day. The acres of products are not enough. Sniff.
I frequently threaten to shave my head and paint it yellow or maybe red, but that’s just a bluff. There are lots of issues with that plan.
So here’s a conversation with my daughter, Victoria (the other half of Victoria Abbott).
MJ: “I can’t go out like this. It looks like chickens have been living in my hair.”
V: “You need a heated brush, mum."
V: eye roll. “We had this conversation two days ago.”
So after many of these identical comments, I raced out in despair and bought one (on sale) and now am in the unenviable position of saying to my daughter, “You were right.’ I feel a bit like the Fonz as I struggle with the word r-r-r-, but at least I can go to the grocery store without a bag over my head. No one will ever think it’s a professional ‘do’, but the cowlicks and rogue waves are under control when it counts.
Okay, that’s my silly confession, how about you? Tell us your nightmares, your brilliant solutions and any other hairy stories. And remember, we love advice and we love to laugh. With you, of course. Never at you.
PS Can you spot the dachshund?