As a teenager I knew everything. I was indestructible. I was a fool. I have come a long way since then through the lessons I learned. One of which is “Don’t attempt self-beautification with out advice and/or supervision of others,” especially if you have never attempted it before.
I grew up with sisters with a handful of girly friends as well, but I never quite got into the world of models, magazines, and makeup. I was more of a mud, mayhem, and musings sort of girl.
So when a certain school dance was approaching and a certain boy had caught my eye, I thought I had to spread my peacock feathers and attract him (side note: it’s the male birds that glam up not the female. Had I know that, disaster could have been averted).
After covertly eavesdropping on a few select girly conversations in the lunch room (Most of them had lighter hair than me and knew way more about hair care than I. That should have been my second warning.), I knew what I had to do. I had to go blond.
Do you remember the ’90s? When “A Touch of Sun” hair lightener was all the rage? Yes, well I do, and me with my wild mass of long, thick, curly, dark hair does as well.
After school I biked down to the local drug store and bought a bottle. I found a secluded place in the backyard, doused myself with the hair lightener, laid down, and let the sun do its work.
After a few hours I got up, pulled my hoodie over my hair and ran inside to see the results. My eyes must have still been adjusting to the light indoors, because I couldn’t see much difference, so I took the remainder of the bottle and sprayed every last strand. I got the blow dryer, set it to max, and bent over so every hair would get a dose of heat. After it was dry I smiled and flipped back up to see myself in the mirror.
My smile quickly faded. The horror, oh the streaked burnt orange looking horror!
After I calmed down, I knew I could not step outside that door and ask for help, I couldn’t bear the thought of having to explain. There was only one thing to do. I slicked back my hair into a tight bun, pulled my hoodie back over my head, ran out the door as fast as I could to my bike, and made my way to the drug store to find a bottle of hair dye in my normal color.
Three things I learned from this experience:
One. I shouldn’t have to change myself to attract other people, if they don’t accept me for who I am, why change for them.
Two. Always ask for advice/help when trying a new look.
Three. Learn basic hair care.
And as for the dance and boy from the beginning of the story, I avoided him and it like the plague, and wore a hoodie or a hat for a solid month.