Bodacious Boomer

While I was on the computer this morning I was fiddling with my hair and  remembered something from very long ago. (More on that in just a bit.) Since deciding I didn’t want to look like Mama in Mama’s Family, I’ve been growing my hair longer. (I imagine that most men can’t really relate to this unless they’ve had to grow their hair out after making an unfortunate choice, like a perm.) However every woman knows exactly what a commitment it is. You have your hair looking pretty good the way it is, the way it’s been for probably a long time. Then you decide to make the big change.

If you started with very short, curly hair like me, it’s a big deal. I endured months of really hideous hair styles. If you lived up north and it was winter you could hide it under a hat. Unfortunately I live in the hot, sticky south. Wearing a hat all winter while attempting to hide your hair wasn’t an option for me. Your female friends give you that knowing look- knowing that there isn’t a damn thing you can do with it in this in-between stage. (No one ever gets married with their hair at an in-between stage.) If you have naturally curly hair it takes at least twice as long to grow your hair out, or at least look grown out, due to the natural contraction of the curl.

I went through a stage where I looked like Little Lulu or Nancy from the comics. My hair kinda looked a curly brunette football helmet for awhile. The good news is that now it’s finally looking better. The process has taken over a year. As I was putting my hair up in a ponytail this morning when I noticed that the bottom layers of my hair aren’t very curly anymore. This is probably because my hair is still very thick and when it gets long, heavy. So I was thinking, what I could do to fix this short of using a curling iron, which I refuse to do.

Then I remembered something from my past, my long ago past. When I was a little girl we’d go and visit my grandmother. She had these great little pink things she put in her hair. They were made of rubber. You’d roll some hair around the middle of them and then flip the top part down over the bottom to secure it.

When her hair was all “set” she looked like a fleet of tiny pink flying saucers had landed on her head. I loved to play with those little things.  When I was older I learned that they were called “Spoolies.”  When I was 5 years old though I called them “Spooees.” I thought those things were the best. And of course, being a wonderful grandmother she was, she let me put them in her hair over and over again. (Then when I finished my cousin would do it all to her again. ) I haven’t see a Spoolie in at least 45 years. I assumed they had just gone the way of the dinosaurs. I did a Google search and lo and behold- they they were! The originals, made of rubber are on EBAY- 10 for $5 or so. The Vermont Country Store has new Spoolies made of plastic- 48 for $15.

So my plan is to order the new ones from Vermont. I will blog later about the results. Wish me luck.

spoolies