Hair! Our crowning glory. There are good hair days and bad hair days. Our hair has it's own personal history. I always wanted to be a "Breck Girl" - who didn't? At 12, my hair had to look just like Peggy Lipton's hair on Mod Squad and it did except for the mousy brown colour (my mother wouldn't let me dye it then). That style carried me through most of high school until I started decreasing the length gradually over the next few years until I bravely gave my hairdresser the thumbs up for the Dorothy Hamil cut. The only problem with that one was my hair wasn't quite thick enough to really replicate her sassy do, and it also required regular maintenance that I couldn't afford at 19. So I grew it out again only to spend hours with the blow dryer and curling iron trying to mirror (dare I say it?) Farrah Fawcett! It would stay that way for about an hour or until I started to sweat on the dance floor at the disco when it would return to its natural state - straight and limp. Round about the age of 21, I believe I suffered from some form of temporary insanity and started perming my hair. I should have known better. My mother had tried turning me into Shirley Temple when I was 4 or 5 with Toni home perms and the smell alone was enough to cast a dire warning that went unheeded. The perm would always start out too tightly wound, would finally relax enough to look good and seemingly within a few days would lay flat at the roots and frizzy on the ends - and I paid for it! This went on for about 5 years or so until I finally caved and decided to make friends with what I had been given and decided to work with it straight. In order to give my fine limp locks some body, the natural next step was to start adding colour to give it some body and texture. Over the next 25 years, it has been mostly short with the occasional growing out to just below my shoulders (that had to go when I had Emma - she was always pulling it) but the colour has changed like a revolving kaleidescope. It has been auburn, red, light brown, dark brown, almost black, yellow, platinum and "striped" (Emma's word for highlighted). The million dollar question is - was I ever happy? There were certainly moments of elation from time to time, but it never lasted. Dark brown felt rich and warm in winter, but when summer arrived seemed heavy and dreary. Red was good for the fall, but looked too bright in winter. Blonde was fab in summer, but just too jolting in the winter. Stripes were pretty good all year round, but were costing me the equivalent of the GDP of some small third world country. So today I have to make the decision yet again - what will I do with it this time? I have been trying to grow it out from the very short spiky look I have been sporting for the last few years. This look has been super easy to maintain, but requires a cut every 4 weeks and the roots show up just as often. Hats flatten it and I feel too boyish sometimes, so I have been thinking going longer to soften my look and maybe even be able to flip the ends out a little under a hat. Just last year I had problems with dark roots when it was blonde, now I have grey roots at the crown so does that mean I need to go blonde again??? Maybe I'll try stripes again. I never quite know until I am sitting in the chair, kind of like a restaurant menu - I'm never quite sure what I'll order until the waiter's impatient look forces an answer from me. Guess I just wish there was something new on the menu.