Straight-haired Mater

Not that I plan to slop around in my jeans for the next few months, but it is nice, on a Monday morning, not to be heading off to classes and trying to think what to wear. Today, I have an appointment with the accountant to get this year’s taxes done (I take care of all matters financial in our house, altho’ I’m hoping some of that may change when Paul retires) and some marking to get through, but I also have time to go for a walk with a good friend. It’s warm enough to get by with light long-sleeved shirt (James Perse, bought on-sale at Aritzia, a fabulous buy) and my down vest (American Eagle, several years old, gets plenty of wear, owes me nothing) and my 7 jeans.

Nothing much notable about this (altho’ that tummy could use more Pilates, less chocolate) except for the straight hair (did you notice the difference?). I straightened it myself for the first time since the 70s (when I used to use big juice cans, very tight ponytails pinned even more tightly to the head, never did use the iron and ironing board like some friends did). I mentioned months ago that my hairdresser had blown my hair straight for me and astounded my friends and family who did double-takes at the change. Well, back in January, I bought a very good (and not inexpensive) ceramic iron from her and got recommendations for a good hairdryer. Then in March, not having found one on my own, I bought the blowdryer, brush, and product. Still, with the rotator cuff injury and the discouraging amount of moisture in the air, I didn’t get around to trying out my investment.

But I got my hair done again last Thursday, and Ronae blew and ironed it straight, sleek, and smooth, and I got so many compliments. Things like “You look glamourous, like a movie star”! Friends walked past me again, not recognizing me ’til I said ‘hi.’ Funniest of all, a woman I haven’t seen for months was visiting the island, and just about fell over herself exclaiming about how good I looked, trying to figure out what the difference was — and wondered if I’d had plastic surgery or something! Makes me wonder what they’ve all thought of my normal, natural curly-haired style.

But it also makes me think that I should put more effort into learning to recreate the look on my own, so Sunday morning, with a promise of a rain-free day (moisture brings my curls back like sugar does ants), I toiled away, making myself almost seasick trying to navigate the reversals required by looking in a mirror (Really, does one get better at that? Soon?). And the results were nowhere near as smooth and shiny as Ronae achieves, but they weren’t bad. One of my daughters assured me that the second day is always better with just the iron touch-ups, and a third even better again — that will be a time saving, for sure, since my curls need to be either washed or at least wet right through every morning and then re-styled. I’m not sure how often I’ll be a straight-haired mater, but it’s fun to have options.