I’ve never been very good at being a girl. I mean, sure, I like to wear skirts, have a serious shoe fetish and cry at weddings. But I’m not good at girl stuff. You know, like putting on makeup. Or picking out accessories to match my outfits. Or doing my hair.
Especially the hair thing. After twenty years of battling acne, I figured out how to do a passable job of “putting on my face” as my mom always called it. But my hair? Has pretty much always been a bit of a disaster.
In high school, which I attended at the height of bad perms and mall bangs, I tried to fit in. I got the perm, attempted to curl the bangs…but on me, it never looked quite right.
In college, I cut it all off. Got myself a pixie cut. It looked kinda cute…but I still hadn’t grasped the concept of styling products. So it was always just a little bit off.
Over the years, I’ve gotten better. I’ve also gotten better at picking easy-to-manage hairstyles. Hairstyles that take nothing more complex than a little flat ironing. Until last week. Last week, in a fit of, “oh man, I look like a mom. I don’t want to look like a mom,” I got myself a haircut with lots of layers, requiring lots of product and more intense “styling.”
So you know what I did today? I spent 60 bucks on styling tools. Got myself a real ceramic straightening iron and a fancy shmancy ionic hair dryer (whatever the hell that means). I even got myself some product.
I’m hoping these magic tools will help me go from clueless schlub to hairstyling pro…or at least someone who looks like she knows what she’s doing. Think it’ll work?
Do me a favor. Don’t answer that.