Im convinced my hair has a mind of its own. And its mind and mine dont seem to gel very well.
I have been trying,ever since I was a young girl,to figure out what my tresses were up to and never succeeded. Sometimes it was poker straight,other times it was full and bouncy and rather often,it seemed to curl into coils of different sizes. The thing is: I have wavy hair. Its neither here,nor there. Its just plain confused. And confusing.
Like many women of my vintage,Ive barely meddled with my hair. As a preteen I wore it long,and school demanded it always to be braided (black scrunchies only,mind you). My teenage years saw me get a fringe,it masked my adolescent insecurities. And the shoulder-length bob was freedom from hair accessories of all hues. Ive coloured it once when a pushy socialite was trying to promote her hair salon. But I stuck to the shade closest to my hair. Ive still to start dyeing,my few grays are comfortable being hand-plucked so far.
Women in Mumbai,where I live,havent seen the sun all week. The rains have wreaked havoc on the citys roads,traffic and daily life. Understandably,social soirees beyond a 15-minute drive are abandoned. What took 15 minutes to reach last month,now takes 45. But oh,the blow-dry cant wait that long. It is now dank,clammy and wisps of monkey hair have appeared.
The funny thing is,Im not a fussy client at a salon. Sometimes Ill try out a new place recommended by a friend. I usually sit down in front of the top stylist and pretty much let him have his way with me. I pay a pretty penny for my haircut,but he hasnt had enough. In the last year alone,Ive been talked into buying several hair products,none of which work at home.
I have bought a Paul Mitchell Heat Seal,which does nothing to stop my cowlick from burning within the hot-iron tongs when Im trying to straighten it. LOreals Volume Lift root-lift spray mousse is for when Im looking for bounce and volume,but the humid weather turns it into hair oil in my mane. I was also made to buy LOreals Liss Ultime to apply to my tips after a blast-dry,but the bottle remains unopened. The frizzies,thanks to the moisture in the air,are beyond serums,mousses,sprays and creams. When I want them to zig,they zag.
Last week,a strange thing happened. When I was looking (and feeling) my worst,thanks to the wet weather,an electric-curled friend said my hair looked great that day. My friend is tall and broad and blessed with a thick mop of curls. She tried straightening her locks and it fell like a curtain on her face.
Many of us arent blessed with hair that suits our faces or our frame,and Im all for a little salon science to correct that. But what I needed was to realise that my hair is telling me that it is versatile. It can be anything I want it to be. It wont let me take it for granted and likes to throw me the odd curveball.
Its forcing me to be adventurous,come rain or shine.