The long and short of hair
Last month, I made a decision so momentous, so powerful, it must be shared.
I'm growing my hair out, and don't try to stop me.
My hair hasn't garnered widespread critical acclaim since the late 1980s, when the style was to grow as much overbleached, overpermed hair as possible, shellacking the bangs almost vertical and using a blow-dryer/hairspray combination to create large wings on either side of your head.
I was lucky, because my hair looked overbleached and overprocessed without having to pay for it. That meant my only investment was vast amounts of White Rain.
By the mid-1990s, the mall bang craze over, I was putting it up in a twist every day until a friend asked, "Is your grandmother making you wear your hair like that?" | Long-haired people who wear ponytails and buns every day are probably short-haired people inside, so I finally got my frizzy locks cut off very, very short. |
I loved it -- barely recognized the person in the mirror.
And so it remained for 10 years, variations on a theme but always short, short, short.
Until now.
Maybe it was encountering a thin, stylish, long-haired acquaintance at a party. I was about four weeks overdue for a cut.
"Growing your hair out?" she asked.
"By default," I said.
"Good," she said. "There's plenty of time for short hair when we're old." I think I was insulted.
But then it occurred to me ... maybe I should take one more shot at long hair. After all, technology has come a long way. There might even be a convenient and inexpensive method of beating my hair down into a recognizable style.
I finally went to my stylist, James.
"I want to grow my hair out to medium length, but I don't want that ugly, in-between stage," I said.
He paused. "Well, honey, there's no way around that stage." | To his credit, he cut the hair into generally the style I was going for. But since I didn't actually have enough length for it, there were no rave reviews when I returned to the office. More like simple observations: "Oh! You've changed your hair!" One co-worker suggested hats and colorful scarves until I've reached the desired length. |
On Monday, I got up and realized the strands were growing straight out of my scalp in a sort of white-girl afro. Yep, this is the hair I remember.
I called James. "Cut it off! I've got to come into the salon and have you cut it off!" |
He talked me down. "Heidi, if you cut it now, you'll never know if it could be great." |
Hair greatness. Could it be possible? |
I thought about it as I dug those old scarves out of the back of the closet.
Heidi Hall is a former managing editor of the Southeast Missourian. She resides in St. Petersburg, Fla.