perm.jpegI love perms.


While I haven’t had a perm since 1991 (and some would say perms were way past their prime in ’91), I look great in them…or I thought I did.  I finally uploaded my senior year picture from 1989 to show you.  My hair barely fits in the frame – it’s so great!  I shoulda owned stock in Aqua Net. Clearly, I have some genetic make-up that receives perms in the spirit in which they were intended – to create over-the-top tresses that only your closest friends know are chemically produced — and to actually desire said over-the-top tresses.


About once a year I ask my fab-U-lous hairdresser about the status of perms.  And each year I get the same answer.   “Perms will never, ever EVER come back in style, girl.  And you will never, ever, EVER get a perm at my salon.”   So there.  Still, I have dreams of having long, luscious, swinging hair, so I asked about extensions.  “We don’t do those either.  Besides, you can’t afford them.  And could you really sit in a chair for eight hours?”  Well, hayel no, who could?  I have a hard enough time sitting still for the three hours it takes to cut, color and highlight my tresses.  And my fab-U-lous hairdresser reminds me I have bigger fish to fry, namely covering the insane, weed-like gray hair that seems to sprout from my head overnight.  


I have to admit, there are two good things about gray hair:  1) I am helping fund my fab-U-lous hairdresser’s 401K; and 2)  and gray hair is of a weird, course texture that makes my hair bulk up a bit as if I had…a perm!  Without the waves, of course.