When your mother is a hairdresser with a beauty shop in your home, it’s all about hair. I was steeped in the mysteries of ladies’ beauty salon confessions from an early age, lurking out of site and eavesdropping. Oh, the things women reveal to one another when they literally let their hair down. While this was before the days when we “let it all hang out,” still I heard things that were totally inappropriate for tender young ears.
Come on Susan, I'll give you a *real* haircut!
When you’re five years old, with a sister three years older, the temptation to treat the beauty shop as an after hours playroom can’t be resisted. Years later our mother retold the moment when she was reading in another part of the house and overheard my sister saying to me “come on Susan, I’ll give you a *real* haircut.” Evidently mom missed a beat before responding, by which time sister had gotten hold of the scissors and whacked a random chunk out of the back of my hair.
You wouldn’t believe it from the photo, but we didn’t dress alike much. Diggin’ the stripes plus pansies? But I digress. Notable in this picture are the matching hairstyles in process, pincurls done up in those metal clippies. When your mom is a beautician, she considers the hair on your head her particular responsibility/cross to bear/opportunity for personal expression (hers.) My sister and I sported some of the oddest ‘dos during our formative years.
With the passing years my hair has begun its inevitable thinning and sister is sporting chemo curls. I think back with nostalgia on the days when I didn’t miss the loss of a random chunk.