From the time Victoria HAD hair to photograph, I’ve been snappin’ away. The main reason I did this was because, especially when she was younger, I got to see what my childhood hair looked like from behind. She and I both have this “s” wave–not curls that spring and bounce, but a sort of serpentine thing goin’ on. Her hair was also, before I began using real, live conditioner on it, very puffy like mine was as a child–with the “s” wave and the “shelf” that begins at the top of my skull. It’s hard to explain, but there is this spot where the wave begins and it forms this sort of shelf around my head like a crown.
I have always had this wild mop of hair. Hair with abandon. A Jungle of Hair. (That was Tony’s expression). As a child it was a MESS due to the fact that Momma didn’t think children needed “cream rinse”, and the only product that blessed my hair besides whatever shampoo was handy was a liberal dose of Dippity Doo and some pink sponge rollers on Saturday night.
My hair is thick and coarse and takes on a life of it’s own most days. And that is just fine by me. I did some really horrible things to it, like PERM IT, in high school. . .along with the hotrollers in high school AND the beginning of college. Then I just decided to let it go. It grew long, long, long. . .down my back long. . .but after Thad was born there was too much of it with which to contend. So I found myself a gal who could (somewhat) tame The Jungle and set to. All my girls at school think I need to straighten it. I like it wild and zingin’ around. It suits me.
My child’s hair. . .well. . .it’s as thick as mine–same “s” wave–same shelf but a little more sobriety to it. It fans around her shoulders. It waves down her back. It is a myriad of hues from cornsilk to tawny to taffy to taupe. It changes in the light. It shimmers. It is an amazement to me.
(I may have to keep some nitro glycerin on hand for Tony. Everytime she has to wear that ponytail he heaves a huge sigh of dread over the years to come.)
We have had her hair one length and long all of her life. She, currently, really likes it that way and can never imagine having it cut differently. I kept the top part of it pulled back for the longest just to keep it out of her way. But when she was in kindergarten, she started requesting to wear her hair “blonde.” She meant all down with none of it pulled back. I would giggle everytime she said it.
And yes. . .her hair is blonde–but her brain is NOT. 🙂