Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Sell Out
I got my hair rebonded on Monday. Rebonded, permanently straightened, chemically relaxed, soft straightened, straight-ironed, flat-ironed.
So many different terms to say the same thing. But none of those words really get to the heart of it. There really is only one proper phrase to use to describe the process.
The phrase is selling-out.
You know how you have a one unique characteristic that no one quite likes? You suffer for it, for years and years. You start off being teased by cousins and siblings, and you cry and turn to your parents (ironically, the very sames ones from whom you inherited such a trait in the first place). You continue to be teased for it as a child, gently ribbed by well-meaning friends. Given pointed suggestions by strangers and acquaintances.
All helpful, all nice, all good.
So tempting to throw money at the problem, listen to the ones at the sidelines telling you what you should do. They only mean well, after all.
And then you do it.
And two hours later, you regret it. You now seem to blend seamlessly into a sea of conformity. You find that what is in itself an unattractive feature actually accentuates your other features - without it everything else falls into mediocrity.
Everyone, quite kindly, says it looks good. But you know in your heart of hearts that you were fine the way you were.
So you stand in front of the mirror with curling tongs heated to a blazing 220 degrees celsius, and you ruin with deliberate intent the handiwork of a man (he calls himself a master stylist) paid $256 for 3 hours of work.
And when your hair is all bouffant and puffy and full and voluminous, and your locks are bouncy and shiny (well not all the rebonding went to waste then) and gloriously tumbling all over your face, you smile and feel like everything is whole again.
So many different terms to say the same thing. But none of those words really get to the heart of it. There really is only one proper phrase to use to describe the process.
The phrase is selling-out.
You know how you have a one unique characteristic that no one quite likes? You suffer for it, for years and years. You start off being teased by cousins and siblings, and you cry and turn to your parents (ironically, the very sames ones from whom you inherited such a trait in the first place). You continue to be teased for it as a child, gently ribbed by well-meaning friends. Given pointed suggestions by strangers and acquaintances.
All helpful, all nice, all good.
So tempting to throw money at the problem, listen to the ones at the sidelines telling you what you should do. They only mean well, after all.
And then you do it.
And two hours later, you regret it. You now seem to blend seamlessly into a sea of conformity. You find that what is in itself an unattractive feature actually accentuates your other features - without it everything else falls into mediocrity.
Everyone, quite kindly, says it looks good. But you know in your heart of hearts that you were fine the way you were.
So you stand in front of the mirror with curling tongs heated to a blazing 220 degrees celsius, and you ruin with deliberate intent the handiwork of a man (he calls himself a master stylist) paid $256 for 3 hours of work.
And when your hair is all bouffant and puffy and full and voluminous, and your locks are bouncy and shiny (well not all the rebonding went to waste then) and gloriously tumbling all over your face, you smile and feel like everything is whole again.
Labels: Hair
Two Minds
I am in two minds today.
I think its also called schizoprehnia.
----
It used to be that I needed to be here for everything to be right again.
How things change - but not in the way you imagine.
Nor is it the case that I need to be there for everything to be right again.
Rather, it's that I need to be where I cannot.
----
If he won't love me, and if I don't love him, why are we even bothering?!?!
I think its also called schizoprehnia.
----
It used to be that I needed to be here for everything to be right again.
How things change - but not in the way you imagine.
Nor is it the case that I need to be there for everything to be right again.
Rather, it's that I need to be where I cannot.
----
If he won't love me, and if I don't love him, why are we even bothering?!?!
Labels: Musings
