I'm not sure if anyone here even cares, but I've planned my aging very carefully. Some women are dedicated to girlishly thin, but the thing that always pre-occupied me was HAIR. I noticed as a child of the late 20th century is that a lot of my elders chopped their hair off. Even my mom, at the tender age of 30 whatever, cutting her hair Roxette short and dying it blonde. I always had the impression that my grandma and mother's generations were trying to look old faster. I didn't understand why they were cutting their hair.
When I was a little girl, my sisters weren't allowed to cut our hair, a style choice my mother brought to the 80s from her 70s childhood. When we were little kids, my sisters and I all had super long ratty hair and we wore feathers and clips and leather straps, beads, we looked like Crystal Gayle and those girls in the re-make of Supiria. My mother made no excuses about us having purple cowgirl boots and hot pink feathers in our waist length hair. The young woman in the Cure's "Charlotte Sometimes: video sums up my mother's adolescence for me. She's always been my spirit animal. That woman, whomever she is, not my mom.
In my teens I had Jennifer Anniston hair, like a lot of girls my age, I kept it about shoulder length, always looking layered and "perfect."
I remember being complimented by a cohort in my senior class of my high school graduating year on my "perfect hairstylist" hair.
But as I got older, especially past 30, I looked a lot like my mother's childhood:
And even when I get old, I want to look like the lead singer of Concrete Blonde:
Or, maybe later on, Anne Rice:
When I was a little girl, my sisters weren't allowed to cut our hair, a style choice my mother brought to the 80s from her 70s childhood. When we were little kids, my sisters and I all had super long ratty hair and we wore feathers and clips and leather straps, beads, we looked like Crystal Gayle and those girls in the re-make of Supiria. My mother made no excuses about us having purple cowgirl boots and hot pink feathers in our waist length hair. The young woman in the Cure's "Charlotte Sometimes: video sums up my mother's adolescence for me. She's always been my spirit animal. That woman, whomever she is, not my mom.
In my teens I had Jennifer Anniston hair, like a lot of girls my age, I kept it about shoulder length, always looking layered and "perfect."
I remember being complimented by a cohort in my senior class of my high school graduating year on my "perfect hairstylist" hair.
But as I got older, especially past 30, I looked a lot like my mother's childhood:
And even when I get old, I want to look like the lead singer of Concrete Blonde:
Or, maybe later on, Anne Rice: