Love and Sexuality
There it is, all through my diary -- the hair thing. It has haunted me since I was a teenager.
Back then, my dreams were simple. I wanted to play the piano like Joni Mitchell on the album Blue (she had long blond hair). I wanted to paint like the Mexican artist Frida Kahlo (who had a waterfall of straight black hair). I wanted to be completely unique like Valli Kligerman, my best friend (who had such long blond hair it was surreal -- she could actually sit on it).
I read and re-read the book Little Women and wondered why my mother had named me after Beth -- the sister who died -- when Amy, the sister with the longer hair, got to live and get the guy of her dreams.
From Cinderella to Snow White, every princess in every story I remember shared one feature: beautiful, long hair. Whether she was going to the beach or to her job at a hospital, Barbie always had long, silky hair. The pretty girl on Scooby-Doo -- Daphne -- was the one with the long hair.
"I choose to read it anthropologically or in a Jungian sense," she said. "Long hair has always meant power in archetypal terms, so for girls learning about how to be women it represents feminine power and sexuality."
In her book, The Roots of Desire: The Myth, Meaning and Sexual Power of Red Hair, Marion Roach also explores the deep-rooted symbolism of long hair: "Hair represents the life force itself. Carried in lockets, encased under glass at the grave, burned in rites, saved in scrapbooks after baby's first haircut; it is something you may have of another that is tangible as well as singularly identifying ... integral to human semiotics, one of the signs and symbols we use to communicate who we are."
This fall, Karen Latta, owner of the White Rose Day Spa in Vestal, told me that she had three stylists who are hair extension pros. Would I like to do an article about them?
But you also can get your extensions "woven" in. In fact, it is more like they are sewn on. I now know what it feels like to be a patchwork quilt. La Taya Swaby, a White Rose hair stylist, washed my hair, combed it out and then made small braids down the back of my head so tight I nearly cried. Then Peggy D'Aloisio, another stylist (they are sort of like a hair extension tag team), "sewed" the extension onto the braids in rows, starting with the bottom of my head and working up.
So much for quickie long hair. This procedure took hours. But it was fun. We talked all the while, about work, kids, life in general. Both La Taya and Peggy have had extensions themselves, many times. Since they are black, they can get the kind that cost $20 to $30 and attach them through "fusion," or the gluing method, and look great.
Synthetic hair doesn't look as good on Caucasians. That's why Peggy ordered me real human hair in my color. Human hair can cost anywhere between $50 and hundreds of dollars. You pay by the length and color. The longer and blonder, the more it costs.
"Your hair came from France," Peggy told me, as she was sewing it on. I could not help it: I imagined my hair at a cute cafe, sipping espresso. My hair wearing a beret and frequenting the Louvre. I realized that I am jealous of my hair. It has had a better life than I.
But extensions don't always look great, like mine do. I found out from Peggy that there are such things as extension fiascos. Make sure that the person who does your extensions is a professional. Ask to see their work, get a reference. "If they are put on too tight they can pull out your real hair at the follicle," La Taya says. "That can cause bald spots."
"I had a girl come in who got her extensions in Rochester for $900, not including the hair, but they were too tight. They were sewn and glued in," La Taya tells me. "It took me hours to get them out. So she had to pay to get them off and on. Her real hair was destroyed. I would never go to anyone I did not know for extensions."
My childhood fantasy has been realized. My new French hair reaches the small of my back and falls into soft curls. It was uncomfortable sleeping last night. My head hurts because the braids are so tight.
We left the extensions their full length, and we'll decide how much to cut off in a few days. What this means is that I have the hair I always dreamed of, and now I know it is too much. It's heavy. While I enjoy wrapping a hip-length braid (yes, I have it braided; it was getting in my food) around my shoulder and playing with it while waiting for the traffic light to change, I realize that I can't conduct my life with this much hair.
"You don't want to OD on length," La Taya had warned me as she was braiding my hair at the White Rose. "You don't want to go all Victoria Gotti."
I realize that I have become a brunette Victoria Gotti. In the Renaissance this hair style might have gone over, but I am a mother and journalist with four cats, a dog and a mortgage. This hair does not fit this life. I decide to go and get it cut tomorrow.
Later, standing in line at the Giant on Upper Front Street, I see the cashier looking at my braid, which has come partly undone and is spilling one long, curling tendril. "Wow, what hair," she says.
Well, now I know how the stars do it. Gwen Stefani, Gwyneth Paltrow, all the Gwens. They go from short to long, movie to movie, video to video. Their secret: Extensions. Probably French ones.
I am on day five now with hip-length hair. How do people do this? It no longer hurts, but it keeps getting in my mouth. When I sleep I don't know exactly where to put it all. I tried a bun, but it was like an extra pillow.
How to care for your hair extensions. Peggy gave me directions: Wash them gently and try not to wash as often as usual. Do not scrub. Brush from below the scalp; do not yank.
I immediately think she means that it belonged to a French virgin, but no, what that means is that it has never been colored or had any by-products on it. It is 22 inches long.
La Taya recently got her hair extensions -- which looked great to me -- for $28.99 in the Bronx. "A lot of people buy hair online," she tells me, "for a bargain. But then they get the hair, and it's not nice hair."
Although my scalp itches a little at night (there are some products out to help with that, Peggy says) my new hair is really nice. It doesn't tangle. It is soft. It flips naturally into curls.
Today I went back to the White Rose and got my long hair cut. La Toya did it. Snip. Snip. Snip. Now it is a reasonable length, mid-back. It is still soft and luscious, thick and curly. It was starting to feel like I had a tail. Now I have long hair, but it is reasonably long hair. The weight is gone. I can imagine sleeping will be easier.
At the end of the day, extensions are a very real option for getting long hair. They work, they stay on, they look real. And they can make you feel very, very pretty.
In a week or so, I'll get these extensions taken off and I'll go back to my shoulder-length norm. In some ways it will be a relief. Long hair is lovely, but so will be its absence.
By the way, there were two other sisters in Little Women: one, Jo, cut off her very pretty long hair and sold it to make money for her family when her father was ill.
She was the best sister of all, and the most beautiful in the end, even without her long, long hair. And she married a man for whom her inner beauty was more important. It's a great book, even when you are named for the sister who had shorter hair and died.
This is cache, read story here
Back then, my dreams were simple. I wanted to play the piano like Joni Mitchell on the album Blue (she had long blond hair). I wanted to paint like the Mexican artist Frida Kahlo (who had a waterfall of straight black hair). I wanted to be completely unique like Valli Kligerman, my best friend (who had such long blond hair it was surreal -- she could actually sit on it).
I read and re-read the book Little Women and wondered why my mother had named me after Beth -- the sister who died -- when Amy, the sister with the longer hair, got to live and get the guy of her dreams.
From Cinderella to Snow White, every princess in every story I remember shared one feature: beautiful, long hair. Whether she was going to the beach or to her job at a hospital, Barbie always had long, silky hair. The pretty girl on Scooby-Doo -- Daphne -- was the one with the long hair.
"I choose to read it anthropologically or in a Jungian sense," she said. "Long hair has always meant power in archetypal terms, so for girls learning about how to be women it represents feminine power and sexuality."
In her book, The Roots of Desire: The Myth, Meaning and Sexual Power of Red Hair, Marion Roach also explores the deep-rooted symbolism of long hair: "Hair represents the life force itself. Carried in lockets, encased under glass at the grave, burned in rites, saved in scrapbooks after baby's first haircut; it is something you may have of another that is tangible as well as singularly identifying ... integral to human semiotics, one of the signs and symbols we use to communicate who we are."
This fall, Karen Latta, owner of the White Rose Day Spa in Vestal, told me that she had three stylists who are hair extension pros. Would I like to do an article about them?
But you also can get your extensions "woven" in. In fact, it is more like they are sewn on. I now know what it feels like to be a patchwork quilt. La Taya Swaby, a White Rose hair stylist, washed my hair, combed it out and then made small braids down the back of my head so tight I nearly cried. Then Peggy D'Aloisio, another stylist (they are sort of like a hair extension tag team), "sewed" the extension onto the braids in rows, starting with the bottom of my head and working up.
So much for quickie long hair. This procedure took hours. But it was fun. We talked all the while, about work, kids, life in general. Both La Taya and Peggy have had extensions themselves, many times. Since they are black, they can get the kind that cost $20 to $30 and attach them through "fusion," or the gluing method, and look great.
Synthetic hair doesn't look as good on Caucasians. That's why Peggy ordered me real human hair in my color. Human hair can cost anywhere between $50 and hundreds of dollars. You pay by the length and color. The longer and blonder, the more it costs.
"Your hair came from France," Peggy told me, as she was sewing it on. I could not help it: I imagined my hair at a cute cafe, sipping espresso. My hair wearing a beret and frequenting the Louvre. I realized that I am jealous of my hair. It has had a better life than I.
But extensions don't always look great, like mine do. I found out from Peggy that there are such things as extension fiascos. Make sure that the person who does your extensions is a professional. Ask to see their work, get a reference. "If they are put on too tight they can pull out your real hair at the follicle," La Taya says. "That can cause bald spots."
"I had a girl come in who got her extensions in Rochester for $900, not including the hair, but they were too tight. They were sewn and glued in," La Taya tells me. "It took me hours to get them out. So she had to pay to get them off and on. Her real hair was destroyed. I would never go to anyone I did not know for extensions."
My childhood fantasy has been realized. My new French hair reaches the small of my back and falls into soft curls. It was uncomfortable sleeping last night. My head hurts because the braids are so tight.
We left the extensions their full length, and we'll decide how much to cut off in a few days. What this means is that I have the hair I always dreamed of, and now I know it is too much. It's heavy. While I enjoy wrapping a hip-length braid (yes, I have it braided; it was getting in my food) around my shoulder and playing with it while waiting for the traffic light to change, I realize that I can't conduct my life with this much hair.
"You don't want to OD on length," La Taya had warned me as she was braiding my hair at the White Rose. "You don't want to go all Victoria Gotti."
I realize that I have become a brunette Victoria Gotti. In the Renaissance this hair style might have gone over, but I am a mother and journalist with four cats, a dog and a mortgage. This hair does not fit this life. I decide to go and get it cut tomorrow.
Later, standing in line at the Giant on Upper Front Street, I see the cashier looking at my braid, which has come partly undone and is spilling one long, curling tendril. "Wow, what hair," she says.
Well, now I know how the stars do it. Gwen Stefani, Gwyneth Paltrow, all the Gwens. They go from short to long, movie to movie, video to video. Their secret: Extensions. Probably French ones.
I am on day five now with hip-length hair. How do people do this? It no longer hurts, but it keeps getting in my mouth. When I sleep I don't know exactly where to put it all. I tried a bun, but it was like an extra pillow.
How to care for your hair extensions. Peggy gave me directions: Wash them gently and try not to wash as often as usual. Do not scrub. Brush from below the scalp; do not yank.
I immediately think she means that it belonged to a French virgin, but no, what that means is that it has never been colored or had any by-products on it. It is 22 inches long.
La Taya recently got her hair extensions -- which looked great to me -- for $28.99 in the Bronx. "A lot of people buy hair online," she tells me, "for a bargain. But then they get the hair, and it's not nice hair."
Although my scalp itches a little at night (there are some products out to help with that, Peggy says) my new hair is really nice. It doesn't tangle. It is soft. It flips naturally into curls.
Today I went back to the White Rose and got my long hair cut. La Toya did it. Snip. Snip. Snip. Now it is a reasonable length, mid-back. It is still soft and luscious, thick and curly. It was starting to feel like I had a tail. Now I have long hair, but it is reasonably long hair. The weight is gone. I can imagine sleeping will be easier.
At the end of the day, extensions are a very real option for getting long hair. They work, they stay on, they look real. And they can make you feel very, very pretty.
In a week or so, I'll get these extensions taken off and I'll go back to my shoulder-length norm. In some ways it will be a relief. Long hair is lovely, but so will be its absence.
By the way, there were two other sisters in Little Women: one, Jo, cut off her very pretty long hair and sold it to make money for her family when her father was ill.
She was the best sister of all, and the most beautiful in the end, even without her long, long hair. And she married a man for whom her inner beauty was more important. It's a great book, even when you are named for the sister who had shorter hair and died.
This is cache, read story here
