The Locks They Love

Other than the Usher song “Love in This Club,” my obsession of the month is my own glorious hair. It all started a few weeks ago at a friend's birthday party when I received a tap on the shoulder with the greeting: “I’d know that hair anywhere!”
Indeed, I thought. Indeed.

Last week, in came an e-mail pitch with the subject line: New Bucktown Salon Has Long Hair Treatments and a Parking Lot! I could only conclude that the PR person had researched me online and discovered that A. I have long hair and B. I am easily wooed by free parking. In the body of the e-mail she pointed out, “Even Rapunzel needs a trim once in a while.” Do I enjoy being compared to Rapunzel? Of course. I wrote back and booked one of those long-hair treatments for next week. I will be driving myself there.

On Monday, feeling nostalgic for the lower gas prices and uncomplicated breeziness of the mid- to late- 90s, I headed to Best Buy and bought Say Anything, a late 80s classic that I considered an appropriate pick because I was still watching it frequently 90s. I modeled my own high school graduation hair on the character of Diane Court, so I wanted to check back after a decade’s absence for a little side-by-side evaluation. Whose cap-and-gown curls were better? See for yourself.

Today, I sat down with QVC “Million Dollar Man” and celebrity hairstylist Nick Chavez to hear the scoop about his new product line. “You have gorgeous hair!” he said. He couldn’t get over it. He reached out to touch it a few times during our meeting. Being an American Indian who owns a ranch in Arizona, he also admired my cowboy boots.

All in all, these occurrences served as a nice confidence booster where my hair is concerned…though I'm not sure I needed it.

P.S. Speaking of e-mail pitches, I got one today that tried to convince me Sunday is the new Saturday. Um, no. I can buy Thursday as the new Friday, but there is no way you will see me at a fashion show, in a nightclub or even ponied up at a neighborhood bar on a Sunday. Gross.

P.P.S. My only thought about the Ashlee Simpson wedding is this: Pete Wentz and Papa Joe are not going to get along.