I’ve written plenty about how, in my middle age, I’m am no longer ogled. No more crude comments from construction workers. No more inappropriate comments from co-workers. No more special treatment from the deli man. (Unless, of course, we’re talking septuagenarians — they LOVE me.)
But that was yesterday. Today, I am sexy, glamorous, hot, even.
Why? Because yesterday, Creighton, hair-stylist to the stars, hair stylist so big he’s a single-moniker (like Cher, or Madonna) was hair stylist to yours truly, and with a few snips, a whole lot of bleach, and a long and painful blow-drying session, he turned me into a celebrity.
Well, maybe not a celebrity, but man, was there a reaction! My husband took a beat to recognize me. The husband of a friend told me I’d never looked better in my life. And my friend Sheryl came careening across a room towards me at warp speed to voice her awe and approval. Nearly everyone I saw commented (positively) on my new hair. (Except my son, who told me I looked “weird” and my very close friend, who looked at me and said “You changed your hair? Really?” As if it weren’t the seismic follicle shift that it was. Hmmmm.)
I like having new hair.
It kinda makes me wonder though: all this time, when I was thinking I had wild, sexy, curly Sarah Jessica Parker hair, did I just look like a big ethnic mess?
Think about it, even SJP, when she does commercials for hair, tames her tresses into sleek, straight locks. She who is known for her gorgeous curls is made to tame them when advertising hair. Curly may be OK when you’re gallavanting around Manhattan bedding gorgeous men while you whine about your love life, but when it comes to selling hair, straight wins. Because in the world of hair straight=good, but curly=out of control!!!!
What worries me is, there is no way, no how, that I will ever be ever to replicate that blow dry on my own. I’m afraid that my currently chic straight bangs and modern shag will look like poofy mall hair once it’s my turn to dry it. You know that Duggar woman? The one with the 497 children (OK, it’s “only” eighteen)? That’s what I’m afraid my hair will look like. Just with better highlights.
And if that’s true — if that’s what happens, well, I may even lose the septugenarian vote.