My hair is, and always has been, a big part of who I am.  I mean, I was born with a heaping pile of monkey fur atop my head and to this day I sometimes wake up resembling a primate.

Over the years I have had many different styles from bowl cuts, pixie cuts, curly, long and everything in between.  The one thing that remained the same throughout was that it was always BIG.  Growing up in the ’80s was the best thing that could have happened to me as BIG HAIR was in.  While some people spent hours trying to hair spray their bangs up into that perfect pouf, mine just came naturally.

One of the many perks of moving to Colorado was the low humidity.  For the first time in my life it didn’t take me an hour to blow my hair dry and it was somewhat tame.  I say somewhat because I have A LOT of hair so there is only so much a girl can do to tame wild locks. When I go back to see family in Ohio, or travel to any  of the humid states, I have big hair.

The years of long sleek hair styles were more of a challenge.  The flat iron became my friend.  I even have a professional-grade flat iron that my hair stylist bought for me and no matter how hard I try, I still can’t get the bulk out of my hair.  Now I am not complaining.  I love my big hair and I honestly don’t know what I would do without it.

A few years ago I started growing my hair out again.  It’s better long and on the days when I just can’t manage, it goes into a pony tail or top knot.  It’s a sexy look, I know.  I am pretty sure my hubby doesn’t even know what it looks like down anymore because it’s up in a knot in the morning before he leaves for work and by the time he gets home it’s back up out of my face.

Two years ago, my hair stylist recommended that she give me a blow out.  I was skeptical as I have had my hair straightened, relaxed, and chemically blown out several times over the years to no avail.  It always looked great in the salon, but after two days it was back to my big, brown bushy mop.  She was so emphatic that I “needed” it that she gave me a huge discount to just try it.  It worked.  I had long, shiny, sleek hair for the first time in my life…and I didn’t know what to do with it.  I could barely get it to curl it was so tame.  After a couple of weeks it became a little easier to work with. I was able to style it and it was definitely more manageable, but it still didn’t feel like my hair.

Well, I got used to my easy, manageable hair and the next summer I did it again.  It did make my life a lot easier and for the first time ever I could let my hair dry naturally.  For those of you who don’t understand, letting my hair dry “naturally” is akin to sticking your finger in a light socket.  That is what my hair looks like when I don’t dry it and style it.  If I go to bed with my hair wet…I may wake up to Andy screaming for his life the next morning.  It’s that bad.

The last few times I have been to the salon, my hair stylist has not so subtly hinted that I might want to get another blow out.  She says things like, “Good Lord girl, we need to tame this hair.  Let’s do a blow out again.”  I have been resistant.  I keep putting her off.  I think after all of these years I have decided to embrace my big hair.  In fact, I may have a shirt made that says, “BIG HAIR DON’T CARE.”

Sunshine & Sarcasm,

Lowi & G