Blythe Spirit

Bad Hair Day

I’ve missed you. I would make a bunch of excuses about my dead laptop, busy job, overabundance of Halloween candy, etc, but really, who cares? You just want to know how I’m going to make up for my absence. How I’m going to buy back your love.

To atone for abandoning you, Internet, I’m going to post a series of photos of my worst ever hair days. This is serious stuff, people. As you’ll soon see, I have difficult-to-manage hair. I’ve always had way too much of it, and it’s coarse and sort of wavy and, well, I’d rather have this hair than be bald but some days I wonder. It’s something I must confess I am still working on today.

Let’s start slowly, with a photo from second grade. My mom and dad went to the state fair and my dad won at the horseraces. They used the money to take me to Disneyland for four days and I got to miss two days of school. It was a Very Big Deal. Such a big deal that we forgot I was missing picture day, the day for which I usually prepared by sleeping in spongy curlers. And then we forgot when re-take day was, and so I was shuffled off unexpectedly to the library and the photographer with his flimsy little dime-store combs.

This was definitely not my Picture Day outfit and it certainly wasn’t my Picture Day hairdo. I vaguely recall that this was taken just after noon recess, when I’d been playing kickball. My mom had recently cut my bangs. Those sad little plastic barrettes are hanging on for dear life. I’m not sure what is going on with that piece of hair that’s longer than everything else. Perhaps I had foreseen the rat tail trend to come? And, in case you’re wondering, most of my childhood winter wardrobe consisted of a turtleneck under something else (in this case, a souvenir t-shirt from the famous Disneyland trip). When I moved out of Montana I practically went into turtleneck withdrawal.

There you go, Internet. The beginning of the end of my dignity. There are perms and mullets and even a prom picture in our future. Away we go.