I bought a wig. Now, maybe a girl shouldn’t admit to using tricks – but a wig is a wig is a wig, and if you know me, or you read this blog, or if you look really close – there is no hiding that fact.
It’s golden blond, not too light and cropped to fall and few inches below my chin. Putting it on feels similar to putting on a hat. Except that unlike a hat, I need to spend about fifteen minutes patting and playing and rearranging the scattered synthetic hairs into place. And also unlike a hat, it looks ridiculous when messy.
Another thing, with this wig my head has gained at least an inch of height. Oh the incredible volume. All my life I’ve battled (when I could be bothered) against my fine hair. I’d tried curling, blow drying, spraying . . . all to have the style flatten within an hour. But stick on this wig and I’m ‘news anchor ready’. I feel, with hair this large, that I ought to host a morning show where me and my charming male co-host (Zsolt, of course) review the latest books and drink from large mugs of fresh brewed, fair trade coffee.
Going into the wig shop was an uncomfortable experience, made more uncomfortable by the completely apathetic sales girls who were on the floor ‘helping’ customers. If alone I would have booted it outta there, but my mom was behind me with a prodding stick, saying – we just need to find the right one, Catherine.
I guess she was right, we did find one. The next day I took Zsolt to the shop and he gave his stamp of approval. No doubt this look is different, but at least it is a look.
So it’s an option, and I’m very glad to have it. On a more adventurous note – I’ve totally hooked myself up with several colourful scarves and under scarves. There is this girl on youtube who explains ways to tie scarves and what pins are best, etc. She’s striking, so knows her style, and easy to follow – and while I don’t exactly copy her methods (e.g. I don’t need to cover my neck), it’s a great source of inspiration.
And that means I have another option. A funky option.
Finally, next Tuesday I’m getting my hair chopped off. It seems that there is a better chance of keeping my hair during treatment if it’s short.
But no matter what I’ll be ready with the accessories, and will try to be daring. The last time I cut my hair extremely short was in grade seven, and some child jackass followed me around saying “are you a boy or a girl?” It’s funny the sort of crap that kids accept, amazing really. But bullying is another topic, and thankfully I didn’t have too much of it.
Anyhow – yes. I bought a wig this past weekend. I also bought some lovely scarves. And finally, to be written about later – I went to a gorgeous hotel and had an incredible Sunday night retreat.
Pretty productive, if I do say so myself.