I Spent Two Weeks In A Mental Institution, But Left With Better Hair

So. A year ago I had a nervous breakdown and spent two weeks in the psych ward of a nice Manhattan hospital. Don't worry! It happens all the time in publishing -- a plucky young editor can't decide if she wants to be her boss or be Lindsay Lohan, so she tries squishing two high-intensity personas into one life. Hilarity ensues accordingly, and by "hilarity" I mean having sex with David Blaine twice in the Hamptons. NO, I made that up. All I mean is I got so run down and emotionally exhausted that I finally just snapped.

But I wasn't so crazy that I forgot to bring beauty products! Most were confiscated for their potential deadliness -- beauty editors, in fairness, do secretly get drunk on toner -- including my hairbrush and detangling spray. I did not feel this. Because you guys, my hair is so obscenely thick and tangle-prone and fried inauthentically blond that I get a dreadlock like every 3 hours. Last year a stylist at Butterfly Studio had to cut a huge knot out while I cried like a brat and Tweeted a ludicrous play-by-play of the butchering (this was pre-loony bin, natch).

In the end, the only hair product allowed was an unopened tub of Davines NouNou Conditioner, and Jesus God did it turn out to be awesome. Hospital showers are a joke  -- you have to keep pushing a button, I guess so people won' t ... drown? -- but even not rinsed of the stuff properly, my hair wasn't weighed down; instead, it air-dried into soft, piecey, natural waves.

And! Even though I tossed and turned every night -- my roommate needed the lights on, you see, to eat kosher burritos and scribble epic missives to God -- morning snarls were consistently minimal.  I've been a Davines (DAH-VEEN-EZ, fyi) user ever since.

What do you use to detangle? Or hey, ever been institutionalized? Has anyone had sex with a magician? Let's do this.