Bad Hair Day

Being a wardrobe stylist, I regularly encounter lots and lots of body issues. It’s no secret that women especially love to hate things about their figure. Through the magic of wardrobe I help even out proportions, smooth things down, play up assets, even change your height. Having a great wardrobe means on any given day you can show the world your absolutely best self just by opening your closet door. Yassss!!!

When I’m working with a client I also encounter hair issues—lots and lots of hair issues. I spend a healthy amount of time advising on cuts and color.   When I’m not with a client I spend a healthy amount of time obsessing over my own hair.

black and white prom

I grew up in the big hair era of the 80’s where the hottest male rock stars bragged about how much Aquanet they used on their hair before they put on blush and lipstick. I have pin straight fine hair that lays flat against my skull. The hair bow kiosk at the mall was but a dream. Clips simply slipped out of my h(air). I was subject to many lectures on how a body wave and a frost would make me look so much better. I bought a collection of curling irons that would curl my hair into triangles, spirals and squares. I got a perm which, because of my red shirt 0001natural texture, looked like badly curled cheap gift ribbon. Sun In became my favorite product. I mastered the art of high bangs—a shellacked Freedom Tower of hair with its highest point over my left eye, arching in a perfect surfer wave toward the other side of my head. It was a favorite pastime of the boys in school to measure the girls’ bangs. My personal best was 6 inches and it took about an hour to create. I would dream of having tons of wavy out of control hair that didn’t require all those things—maybe just some teasing to shape and hairspray for hold.   I tried not to cry as hair stylists would stage whisper that they couldn’t do anything with my flat tresses.

 Then, almost overnight, big hair was out and straight hair was in. Those curly haired bitches had to buy flat irons, frizz serums and formaldehyde straightening treatments.   Straight hair is still loved today, but the trend hadn’t made me love my hair anymore. I may be the only person in the world prays for 90% humidity because it gives my hair body. No woman I have ever talked to has said, yes, I love my hair—even after a compliment! I was speaking to an African American friend of mine about this very thing and she made me stop. “Wait—you mean white women hate their hair, too?” Yes—we hate our hair, too.

 We all spend of lot of time not loving things about ourselves. We spend a lot of time thinking others have it better. We spend a lot of effort trying to change things about ourselves that actually make us who we are. I have stopped trying to change my hair and it has become my trademark. It makes me who I am– a unique and awesome individual with fine hair and killer bangs. The next time you are hating your hair or anything else, take a minute to remember that it is this thing that sets you apart from everyone else and it could be what makes you awesome.

Much Love and Fabulousness,

Carmen

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If you are ready to be that unique and awesome individual only you can be I’m here to help! Click here to schedule a free call with me!

 I’m now doing  live calls! Dial in next Wednesday, Jan 28 at 630pm. We’ll be mentioning unmentionables with Rebecca from BEXnyc Intimates. Dial in: 1-302-202-1114 conference code 280704

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