Snapshot: the best hair glamour

The sunny girl did it again:  right before Christmas, she got a sassy new haircut!  Her adorable bob swings to just below her chin, and she feels so easy breezy as she goes about her day.  And the best part is that she was able to donate eleven inches of beautiful hair to LOCKS OF LOVE, the fabulous non-profit organization that uses these donations to create wigs for children who have suffered hair loss.

The sunny girl is the Jo March of her generation! --

She came walking in with a very queer expression of countenance, for there was a mixture of fun and fear, satisfaction and regret in it, which puzzled the family as much as did the roll of bills she laid before her mother, saying with a little choke in her voice, "That's my contribution toward making Father comfortable and bringing him home!"

     "My dear, where did you get it? Twenty-five dollars! Jo, I hope you haven't done anything rash."

     "No, it's mine honestly. I didn't beg, borrow, or steal it. I earned it, and I don't think you'll blame me, for I only sold what was my own." As she spoke, Jo took off her bonnet, and a general outcry arose, for all her abundant hair was cut short.

      "Your hair! Your beautiful hair! Oh, Jo, how could you? Your one beauty. My dear girl, there was no need of this. She doesn't look like my Jo any more, but I love her dearly for it."  As everyone exclaimed, and Beth hugged the cropped head tenderly, Jo assumed an indifferent air, which did not deceive anyone a particle, and said, rumpling up the brown bush and trying to look as if she liked it, "It doesn't affect the fate of the nation, so don't wail, Beth. It will be good for my vanity, I getting too proud of my wig. It will do my brains good to have that mop taken off. My head feels deliciously light and cool, and the barber said I could soon have a curly crop, which will be boyish, becoming, and easy to keep in order. I'm satisfied, so please take the money and let's have supper."

                                                                            Little Women, Chapter 15:  "A Telegram"
                                                                            -- Louisa May Alcott, 1868-69

New and Sassy

So I've been looking for a new 'do . . .

. . . because last summer Coleen and I saw Mamma Mia and decided to channel our inner Meryl Streep by growing our hair long. We didn't take into consideration that to get this carefree, "I don't care about my lovely, lovely tresses" look . . . .

. . . a whole lot of time-consuming, "these curlers hurt my teeth" nonsense would have to take place. And I can't speak for Coleen, but I personally spent a lot of time striving for a Streepian vibe . . .

. . . but I turned up in too many photos looking a lot like these ladies, who I am sure are very nice people -- but have mercy with the hair. When I didn't look like a polygamist, . . .

. . . I trended toward a Michelle Duggar look, which seems to work well for her (it clearly works really, really well for her husband). But I don't want nineteen children, my people, so this hair style is not for me.

So I went to see the fabulous Lynda Lee, and check it out! Now I have a sassy 'do that is easy and fun -- Coleen will just have to be Meryl Streep all by herself.

Image Credits:
Meryl Streep: Peter Mountain
Polygamous wives: Wendy Gragg/Waco Tribune, 2008
Michelle Duggar: Scott Enlow/TLC

Jolie Blonde's big day

So Coleen's oldest girl, Jolie Blonde, has been begging to get her ears pierced since she was about fourteen weeks old. I'm telling you -- there was never a girl who was in more of a hurry to grow up. Mostly this has shown itself in her mature outlook on life and her fabulosity as a BFF to my youngest girl. Also in her refusal to wear ruffles.

Jolie Blonde: 2nd grade

But Coleen has had years of experience watching out for the sneaky use of eyeliner and mascara (second grade), the intense need for blue-streaked hair (fifth grade) and the "I'll die if it doesn't happen" passion for dangly earrings (lifetime achievement award).

Well, Friday was the day she got those ears pierced, because (pause for wipe of bittersweet tear) she's thirteen now. The youngest urchin and I went along for the adventure -- we headed to Pincurls, owned by the fabulous Lynda Lee, and gathered with bated breath to watch the drama.

First, Lynda marked the perfect spot with a special pen which I suspect was just a Sharpie with a hifalutin' label. The heart-faced urchin watching so intently is Coleen's youngest girl -- my god-daughter!

Next, Lynda prepared the instrument of torture weapon cute little non-threatening ear piercing thingie.

Nope! Doesn't look like a gun at all, does it?

At the moment of truth, Lynda said some serious and slightly scary stuff like, "Don't move a muscle even if it hurts like a big dog, because if you do your ear will get stuck to the gun and then you'll have to wear it instead of an earring forever, and you'll get kicked out of school for bringing a weapon, and I'll have to charge you extra for the gun/earring." Or something like that. Actually it was over in a flash -- and now her dream has come true! She's way easier to shop for now, too.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JOLIE BLONDE!

Glamour Hair -- Part Two

Yesterday was another day of fabulous hair, as my oldest daughter ventured into the salon ("Pincurls," owned by the charming and talented Lynda Lee) and asked that timeless question: Should I get bangs?

Now this girl has the loveliest hair -- all different shades of brown and gold and auburn. Rich people pay a lot of money to try to get this hair. So of course she would love to color it.

Sing halleluiah -- Lynda talked her down from this idea and they commenced to the serious work of choosing the perfect 'do. Layers? Bangs?? Razor cut??? We should all hope that President Obama, Speaker Pelosi, and the nine Supreme Court justices put as much thoughtful energy into their work.

You can wear your hair long, girls.
Yes, you can! Yes, you can!

Once the decision had been made (more noticeable layers, long enough for a softball ponytail), Lynda got down to business.

Must . . . read . . . at . . . all . . . times . . . .

tangent: This girl is the Queen of Quidditch, the High Mugwump of Hogwarts, the go-to source for all things Harry Potter. She was born on Harry's birthday, for Merlin's sake! Ooh! Quick quiz: who else associated with Harry's world was born on his birthday?

This tousled look seemed done to me (and frighteningly mature . . . ) but the girl and her stylist sneered at my naivete. The next step was crucial:

Now the all-important flat iron appeared. I know that the world shifted on its axis a little bit when this instrument entered our home. I mean when the teenager said she needed a flat iron --

-- I seriously thought she had lost her mind. Silly Mommy!


But -- and I am totally serious here -- how does this instrument, a flat iron, after all, curl anyone's hair? I am stymied by this. Really.

Seems to work, though!

I said, "Wow! Your hair looks like Farrah Fawcett's!" (Actually, to show you just how old I am, I really said, "Wow! Your hair looks just like Farrah Fawcett-Majors'!") Again with the get-with-the-times sneering, and Lynda very sweetly said, "Or maybe Vanessa Hudgens?"

Next up: can one say "glamour hair" and "teenaged boy" in the same sentence?

Obama Family image credit: Scott Olson/Getty Images