I have healthy hair for the first time since grade school. I’m pretty sure my hair has never really recovered from the ‘80s, and I hadn’t really bothered trying. See, I came of age in the eighties. That decade dictated, to me, that good hair was achieved with scalding hot curling irons, mousse or gel, and a lot of hair spray.
It worked for me then, so why mess with a good thing?
Left alone, my hair is naturally stringy, flat and mousy.
This is why I learned to mess with it so much. In Junior High and High School, my idea of hell was being out of hair spray.
On the days that we swam in P.E., I either opted out, or I went into hiding for the rest of the day. However, it rained the night of homecoming, and my hair was hardly affected.
As the eighties were coming to a close, I was using crimping irons every day without a care in the world, heedless of the damage I was doing to my baby fine hair.
Even in my Grateful Dead phase, my hair was not spared.
I was overspraying and overstyling my hair long into the nineties, when everyone else was going with a more natural thing. Sometimes my hairdresser would create a more relaxed hair style for me, but I’d just end up teasing and spraying it.
Later on, I discovered hair extensions, and fell in love. I got the expensive kind and had them sewn into my own hair.
then lighter still,
then went Manic Panic,
then back to something natural,
then removed them and cut my hair above my shoulders. I did my best for a few years after that to keep damaging it,
and then I let it be and actually followed the instructions of my hairdresser. I did not know it was even capable of growing in healthy. Having hair that swings when I walk and comes to its own natural curl at the end is a complete novelty. Who’d have thought, it would only take two decades and several gallons of product to come to the conclusion that I could produce “fullness” by leaving it alone? This is going to be fun, until I get the urge to shave it into a mohawk.