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Archive for August 14th, 2005

Princess Bad Hair Day

Sunday, August 14th, 2005

Back when I first joined the Quilt Art list, there was much discussion about yaya names – from the book and movie – Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood. My yaya name is Princess Bad Hair Day. I was struck at the aptness of this name for me as my hair has been the bane of my existence most of my life. It is thin and the normal color is quite a bland brown. At the same time I signed up to participate in the journal quilt project and my January journal for 2003 was this self portrait called Princess Bad Hair Day. I played with a photo in photoshop and printed it on fabric and then embellished with the tiara and hair.


For my September journal, I did this glamor shot, called Crazy Quilter:


So, why am I sharing this? Well, yesterday, Princess Bad Hair Day had a very bad day!! As you can imagine, Princess Bad Hair Day has a very important relationship with her hair stylist. When I find one I like, they become like family. I can count the number of people allowed to touch my hair more than once in the past 20 years on one hand. I have always been the one to leave – not my stylist. In my mind they are all where I left them waiting for me in case I ever return to one of my former homes.

Cynthia has been doing my hair here in Santa Rosa for more than 5 years. When we moved here, I called a salon nearby that had a cool looking ad. I walked in and no one greeted me so I sat down and looked in horror as I saw only white and blue-haired and permed old ladies – you know that hairdo that they have done once a week and spray the hell out of it so that it lasts til next week? I had a panic attack and without speaking to anyone, I was out of there.

I had a neighbor whose haircut I liked so she gave me the name of the stylist. she was not taking new clients and gave me to a new person in the salon – didn’t go back to her. So I got out the yellow pages and in my search, I found an ad with a photo of the stylist. She had blond, chunky cut and a very modern do. Her name was Cynthia Larkin. I made an appointment with her and she was the one. She gave me red spiky hair. She turned my from wimpy to wow! (At least in my mind.)

When I met Cynthia, she was the divorced mother of a teen-age daughter who had mega angst and caused her mother no end of misery. She was also dating men – that she was constantly complaining about. All that time in the chair with her meant that she knew all about my family and that I have a gay daughter and two gay nieces. So when she had an awakening regarding her own sexual orientation, it was easy for her to talk about it with me. I followed her through several romances and moves to various salons. When she bought her home at Dillon Beach, I made her a wall quilt with a sand dollar motif because sand dollars had a special meaning for her. Last  year she opened her own place called Urban Hair with a store selling shabby chic home decor called Urban Home. I made pillows that were for sale in her shop. I never told Cynthia what I wanted done to my hair, she did whatever she wanted to do. "Its summer time so lets put in some highlights. I think we should go with a stronger red." She gelled and spiked my hair and I always left feeling like such a hip grandma.

About two months ago, when I was in to see her. She told me that she had met someone on the internet. They were getting to know each other via phone calls and e-mail. She said that she was a vp with Yahoo and lived in Palo Alto. Last month when I was in we had lots of time to talk. She gave me a pedicure and told me all about Trish. She was wearing a gorgeous diamond ring that she had given to her. I came right out and said "Are you going to close the shop and leave me in the lurch?" She said that would not be happening anytime soon.

Fast forward to yesterday. I had called in the morning and begged for 15 minutes for a trim – the receptionist said to come in a 4 and Cynthia would fit me in. While she is shampooing my hair, she non-chalantly says, "This is the last time I will be doing your hair." Just like that – no biggy to her! I started crying. I said how can  you do this to me. I leave my hair stylists – they do not leave me!!

Trish came to pick her up so I got to meet her, but I was not very nice. She introduced me to David into whose hands she is placing me. He was very sweet and held my hand as I cried and she did my last spiky cut.  I am very happy that Cynthia has found Trish and will have this fabulous life with her. I am looking forward to going to their marriage ceremony and to keeping in touch with her but I am not going to forgive her any time soon for leaving me and my hair in limbo.

So here is what is left of what she did with me yesterday. It looked much better before I slept on it!!