Lately I have been hating my hair. I have been coloring it for a long time, but only now does it look fried and brassy and damaged. I wonder why, I baby it with expensive shampoos and conditioners for color-treated hair. I try to hold back on the heating elements to style it, and I haven’t been in chlorine or sun lately. I walk the aisles at CVS, Target and Sephora looking for the next miracle product that will take my straw and make it silk.
Purple and green batik-print cotton top, wrap style from Gap. Lowrise bootcut jeans from Gap. Gold chain from Express, knotted and gold bangles from Claire’s. Beaded thong sandals from Seychelles.
Okay, don’t get grossed out but hair is third-day dirty. The bod is clean, the hair is barely brushed. I am heading to the beach after lunch today and probably will head straight into the ocean. Why bother with doing my hair?
This is my dressing table. I always wanted a dressing table. My mom has a large white antique one with a three-piece mirror attached and a matching curved bench just right for women wearing lots of crinolines. I loved sitting at that dressing table, surrounded by pots and bottles of potions for beauty. There was a shallow long drawer in the center – here is where she placed many of her tools –
So Frida Kahlo sported a mono brow and mustache, and was still seen as a beautiful and sexual being to many men. When you become as talented as she, then you too can do as you wish. Until then, you only get one chance to make a first impression, and let’s not have it be you as Teen Wolf. Though you may find those random hairs to be barely noticeable, I bet everyone you meet is aware of them and wondering why you haven’t done anything about them.