A Hairy Topic

I write to you as a new woman. As a curly-haired brunette wearing eyeshadow and a flattering shirt. Until yesterday, I was an ashy blond with stick straight hair who lived in these AWESOME $8 Danskin knee-length sweatpant-y shorts for nearly every activity (available at WalMart. Shorts not pictured). See Old Maret v. Emperor Zurg, 500 D2d 432 (Disney World, 2010) :



The transformation involved over 8 hours of driving to and from Portland, two trips to a beauty supply store and Sephora, a meltdown over an unfortunate color mishap, and 70 chapters in a really dirty James Patterson novel. In the end, I now realize why I cared so (relatively) little about my appearance. It takes too long and I'm as impatient as they come. Also, it's spendy.

So the real reason I devoted several days to vanity was for my sister--a student at the Aveda Institute (a classy beauty school in the Pearl District). She needed to practice her perming skills, and I was her willing victim. I craved curls. And after a session of tugging at my tender head and burning my skull with chemicals, I have them. And they are dead sexy. My hair is so fine that it's more of a wave than a curl, but still, I LOVE it.

The next visit, Kristen turned me into Evil Rainbow Brite for her senior project (the theme is superheroes). So I got a rainbow mask made of eyeshadow, a really slutty costume, and my hair dyed. This is where things took a more sinister turn. We asked Kristen's instructor to give us a natural strawberry blond color. Instead, she gave us Carrot Top. So for almost a full 24 hours, I looked like I belonged to the circus and/or was employed at Hot Topic.

I cried. Lucky for you, through the tears I had the foresight to take this picture:



It's a shame that the photos don't really capture how BRIGHT it was, but you get the idea. Not my best look.

Bleaching my bright orange hair to the intended strawberry blond after a perm would have been hair murder, so I decided to go dark instead. Lookie me now (sorry the picture is dark, but you get the idea):




Foxy. It would never had been my first choice, but I think I like it more than I would have liked the strawberry blond.

Changing one's hair so dramatically necessitates makeup. Before when I didn't wear makeup, I just looked like tired or like slob. And I could live with that, because chances are I WAS tired or slovenly. But with this dark hair, if I don't wear makeup my pale face is even paler and my dark circles even darker. Long story short: I look like I write angsty poetry rife with misspellings and think about cutting myself. And that won't do...

So, makeup. I guess I won't just be seeing you only on Sunday.