It's gonna get sappy up in here.
Ever since getting my hair extensions, my relationship with my hair has become among the most dysfunctional I’ve ever known. I finally have the mermaid-like style I’ve always wanted. But they are the chains that bind me to an ironclad calendar of hair washing schedules from which I cannot break free.
Truth is, my hair controls my life. Every aspect.
Add in that I feel woefully inept at blowing out my own hair -- granted, technically not my own hair these days -– and I am forever straddling the line between stretching out the blowout from two days ago and scheduling the next one for the day after tomorrow.
I know all the tricks of the trade. I’ve found the best of the secret cheap blowout salons (I won’t share under pain of death, sorry), and I’m constantly on SalonApprentice.com volunteering myself for free blowouts.
But, still, for the health of said obsession, those babies gotta last.
I’ve noticed this issue most directly in my workout schedule. The sad reality is I can be on top of my hair or on top of my gym excursions, but not both. If I get a blowout on Monday, there’s no way I’m going to blow it (no pun intended, sorry!) by dropping in to hot yoga that night. Yoga or any mat-based class would at-best be a day-3 blowout attempt, which would mean at most, I’m going two times a week.
Not ideal for a fitness routine, but the hair wins every time.
I’ve learned that there are certain workouts that allow me to contain the damage. I’ve been known to spritz on dry shampoo pre-workout, to preempt sweat-damage to the neck area and roots. I’m also all about the high ballerina bun (always secured with hairpins or bobby pins, not elastics, who needs that awkward ridge?) I’m anti all sweatbands though. My fine frizzy baby hairs along the hairline are an issue, but those headbands turn a thimble of issues into a veritable boatload of woe.
But the truth is, even these tasks are not “day of blowout” saves –- because they will all, still, decrease the life of said blowout. Blowouts I sleep on satin pillowcases to preserve, and braid nightly.
It may seem like I’m teetering on obsessive, but seriously – HOW CAN I CONTROL MY LIFE IF I CAN’T CONTROL MY HAIR?
But it’s not just the gym.
I’ve had dates at amusement parks, and worn shower caps on water rides. I’ve nixed the idea of “shower time fun”. I’ve walked around –- in public –- wearing a rain bonnet when it’s but a light drizzle. All for the sake of the hair.
As I write this, I’m trying to figure out birthday plans for next weekend and am leaning towards intimate plans with small groups of friends vs. a complicated over-dramatic party. Does this mean one blowout? Multiple?
How did I get to the point where my whole life revolves around my hair? Clearly I don’t want to see people and look ungroomed, but at the same time even the most affordable of blowouts add up. I’m someone who can barely rationalize sushi lunch special takeout more than two times a week, and yet I blow (sorry again) double that on my hair without a second thought.
What are your obsessions? Do you think I'm totally nuts with my hair?