I have that kind of thin hair that, untampered with, hangs limply from one's head like so many wavy spaghetti noodles. It's pretty good, as heads of hair go. I wish it wasn't naturally the exact color of a lustreless groundhog. But my hair has never called me a bitch or tried to strangle me in my sleep or anything, so it's got a lot of my former boyfriends beat.
But as your resident trashy old sex clown, of course I always dream reaching new heights of hair greatness. So I asked Cat on advice for getting bigger hair, and true to form, she recommended artifice. Would that I were a kept woman or hot stripper (or I guess, like, a doctor or whatever) with thousands of dollars to spend on celeb-caliber hair extensions, but since I am but a poor cobbler together of words, I went the clip-in route. (Cat loves them! You can see them on her "Beauty Products I Hoard" list.)
And I am a changed woman. DIY hair extensions, like red lipstick and trimming your own bangs, are the sort of thing that seems complicated but actually doesn't take that long to get the hang of. Half the battle is just having the confidence to try. (Actually, bangs trimming is still a tricky mistress. Mine look sort of janked right now.)
But hair extensions are easy. You just clip up your top layer of hair, then snap the little cap into your hair in several places like I used to do with the birds and squirrels and crap that came with my Lady Lovelylocks doll.
I would cut a bitch for some of those Pixietail clips today! But I digress. The cap looks like this from underneath.
If you guys decide to try this out on your own, I'll have Julie do a real tutorial on how to put these suckers in. But it's seriously really easy -- I suck at anything "crafty" or that otherwise requries a steady hand/attention to detail. Yet here I am wearing them, which I basically have been in every awesome photo of myself for the past 6 months.
From what I can tell, the best are Hairdo from Jessica Simpson. You can get them in straight or wavy, long or short, volumizing boosters, updos, even clip-in bangs in a variety of shades. The one I'm wearing is the 22-inch relaxed curl hair extension, and as you can see, I look amazing. (What? It's called self-esteem.)
I also like these Effortless Extensions Slip-Ons, pictured below. They come on a string that you just sort of put on your head like a headband, then pull a layer of hair through to cover. It sounds weird, but they stay put.
Here I am wearing it:
For an easier (and cheaper) look, you can try these individual pieces from Pop that come in blues and reds and animal prints and pinks.
Now that I've experienced life with thick, lustrous locks, I never want to go back. I tell everybody. I'm like the hair extensions equivalent of the person who can't help bragging about how cheap their shoes were. Someone's like "Your hair looks nice" and I'm screaming "IT'S FAKE!" before they get they whole sentence out. Lord help us if I ever get butt implants or something. You'll have your hand on that fake booty faster than you can tell me you like my skirt.
Speaking of which, these products kind of remind me of my brush with Booty Spanx in that you don't want anyone actually touching or feeling them. There was a producer here the other day shooting me for Dr. Phil, and at one point she recklessly grabbed a brush and tried to run it through my "hair." I wasn't trying to sleep with her, so it wasn't so bad, but just be prepared to be trapped in a loveless cage of your own synthetic hair.
Since I've long been stuffing gross wadded-up hairnets full of hair aka"rats" up in there, the boyfriend has pretty much learned not to romantically run his fingers through my hair. But he was still pretty taken aback when I pulled a bunch of hair-on-a-string off my head before bed the other day.
WHAT JUST HAPPENED? he stammered.
I think it's funny to scare him with girl stuff, so I was all like, "What? I'm just taking my hair out to put it in my hair cabinet." It's funny how much of being a girl is like being a creepy old witch.
HAIR CABINET WHA?!?!? he said, actual fear dawning in his eyes. Sorry, honey, but this is real life. Just cause you know how the sausage is made doesn't mean it isn't delicious.
Which is why I keep playing with this stuff, even when I'm so perilously stuffed into my girl suit that a sneeze could topple the whole illusion. I love how much of gender is barely held together with ropes and pulleys and eyelash glue. It's all fake! Why shouldn't the hair be?