(Step)Mommy and Me Haircuts

This story is based on true events, my personal events, but I’ve exaggerated a few of the details for both my, and hopefully your, enjoyment. This story takes place in the late Fall of 1983, a little more than 39 years ago exactly!

 

When I was 10, my mother left my daddy, George, for another man, and essentially cut all ties off with her family, including me. I was old enough to feel confused, angry, and sad, but not nearly old enough to appreciate what Daddy must have felt, or even the full extent of what she was doing. I don’t remember them fighting very much, nor do I recall ever seeing her being unfaithful. To her credit, she at least spared me that fact. Her parents, my daddy’s now ex in-laws, were furious with her, and begged my father to let them help us out, which he gladly accepted. Later, he told me he thought this was a little strange, because he never gave any impression that he wouldn’t welcome their help with me, and never once lorded over them about their daughter. All in all, I was pretty lucky, considering I’ve heard stories about so many others where a parent left and it resulted in homelessness, drugs, and any number of other horrible, horrible things.

 

This is a hair-story website! Get to the hair stuff!!! Sorry, but I had to lay a bit of context, and there’s a bit more. My mother leaving us left me with a healthy amount of the total cliché emotional insecurities, and while it didn’t result in me acting out, I definitely craved approval and attention from my teachers, my friends, and especially my family. In a real case of ‘”truth is stranger than fiction”, about a year after my mother left, my maternal grandparents introduced my daddy to my eventual step mother, Angela, and my future stepsister, Brianna. I worshipped Angela. She was, is, instantly a woman I looked up to, literally. When she met Daddy, I thought she was a supermodel. Tall, a little curvy for the time, but not at all by today’s standards, she had the hourglass shape every woman envies, and she had that gorgeous natural tan Italian skin that so many try to imitate. On top of this, she is a kind, smart, and funny woman that is, even today, the life of the party. She’s also the reason, I’m willing to admit now, that I eventually developed a hair fetish as a teenager.

 

Angela loved changing her naturally dark hair, wearing it down and curled, straight, up, buns, fancy updos, and sometimes, she’d change the color either subtly or dramatically. Once in the early 1970s, I later learned she even got a proper disco afro perm! Anyway, I always loved seeing her change her look, especially because she always seemed to do it for herself and her own enjoyment. Although she generally kept her hair long, I don’t think she did this to keep in line with more traditional feminine beauty. I’ll explain why in a minute. Brianna, however, always kept her long, naturally wavy hair down, which I also was very envious of. Not in a ‘green-eyed monster’ sort of way, but rather just as something I really wish I had for myself! On top of this, Angela would frequently brush her daughter’s hair, sometimes putting ribbons in it, braiding on rare occasions, or just brushing back to give her a different look. They’d use it as time to catch up on their days, and would sometimes sing together while Angela worked. This was another thing that once I saw it, I was jealous, but again, only in that I hadn’t had that experience myself.

 

The second time I happened to see this, I was actually staying over at their house. Daddy would sometimes travel for his job, something my mother apparently took advantage of, and when that would happen, I’d normally spend the night, or nights, with Grandma and Grandpa. However, about two months after Angela and Daddy started dating, Grandma and Grandpa were on vacation, and Angela offered to take me for the weekend through that following Friday. It was a great time, and while I won’t be melodramatic, that week I really remember feeling like she could be part of the family. Sunday night, I had washed up and put on my nightgown and was brushing my hair. Angela knocked on the door, and wished me good night. However, she stopped, and asked, “Say, honey, want me to brush your hair? Yours looks pretty worn out, and you can pull out your hair if you snag it just wrong.” I felt a little embarrassed. While it wasn’t like Daddy couldn’t afford new hairbrushes, I generally didn’t get a replacement anything, until the one I had broke. I think she knew this, because she said with a big smile, “I just bought Brianna and myself some new ones, so how’d you like a new one, Janet?” She left the room and was back in a flash, a brand new brush in hand. I can still picture it so clearly. It was black with a red center from which all the black tines emerged. I don’t know the brand, and I lost that brush in a move, which I’ve always regretted. Anyway, she pulled over a chair, and said “Here, you lean back in the chair, and I’ll brush your hair, sweetie.”

 

I smiled, happily taking my place in the chair as she stood over me and began running the brush through my locks. Immediately, I could tell she was a pro, effortlessly gliding the tool through my hair, which felt wonderful. I had become so used to my old brush tugging, that I didn’t know what I had been missing! She started asking me questions, and answering mine, and before long, we both were smiling and giggling and having the best time. I don’t remember what we talked about, but I do remember that she kept it focused on me and how I was doing. Suddenly, she stopped, and I turned back, asking “Is something wrong, Angela?” She laughed, pointing to the vanity mirror, and said “No, silly goose, I’m done!” Normally, it took me around 20 minutes to brush my hair, but the time had just flown by! Even better, my hair looked great, perfectly arranged and even. It almost looked like I’d had it straightened! “I’ll fix any flyaways in the morning, but you should be all good in the morning, Janet!” I hopped out of the chair, and gave her a hug, just on impulse. She gave me a big hug back, and I think this was when she really realized how much I was craving that maternal figure in my life. I fell asleep that night with a big smile on my face.

 

Luckily, I’m not an active sleeper, so when I went down to breakfast, dressed for school, my hair was almost just as she left it. “Good morning, sunshine!” smiled Angela, handing me my token OJ and pointing to my toast and banana. She flicked a few hair straight with a brush, then said to Brianna loudly, “Brianna, doesn’t Janet’s hair look nice today?” Brianna, not a morning person, but a polite person, forced a smile and said “Yeah, looks really nice, Janet!” I smiled, thanking them both. Angela is a great cook, and every night was a full, delicious Italian-American home cooked meal. Thursday night I washed my hair and dried it, wrapping it in a towel. For some reason, I was a little nervous as I knocked on Angela’s door. A cheerful “Come in, honey” came from behind the door, and I opened it, seeing Angela finishing up braiding Briana’s beautiful hair into two long sections. Much to my surprise and delight, Angela’s hair was also in matching braids! “Um, hi, Angela. I was wondering, after you’re done with Brianna, if you could brush my hair, please?” I looked at the ground, feeling a bit embarrassed and like I was intruding. However, true to form, Angela smiled, grabbing my hand and pulling me into her room. “Well of course, honey! But, as you can see, my hair is braided, Brianna’s is almost done. Would you like your hair braided, too, sweetie?” Brianna actually looked pleased with this idea, and I opened my eyes wide and smiled, saying “Really? You’d do that?” Angela waved her hand, “Oh please, it’s not like I’m giving you a kidney, Janet!”, she laughed. “Just grab a seat on my bench, and I’ll get you done in just a few minutes.” Excitedly, I rushed over to her bench and took my seat, watching with the utmost fascination as Angela finished braiding her daughter’s hair. Soon she was done, tying off Brianna’s twin braids with little pink bands, same as her own. Brianna grinned as she inspected her reflection before patting the chair she had just vacated, saying “your turn, Janet!”

 

I smiled, removing my towel and grinning as I took my seat. Angela began chit-chatting with me and Brianna about movies, clothes, and whatever else, all while masterfully brushing my hair before beginning the process of sectioning it out, wrapping it around, all without barely the tiniest hint of tugging. I’d had my hair braided a few times by my classmates, but, through no fault of their own, never as well or as pain-free like this! I watched myself in her vanity as my appearance changed so dramatically. Having all of my hair pulled back really made me look different, almost older. Just like when she brushed my hair, I felt like practically no time had passed by the time Angela clapped hands together and said “There you go, kiddo! How do you like it?” I laughed, loving the texture of the braids as I ran my hands over them, still amazed at how I looked with all the hair out of my face. “Oh, I LOVE it!! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I was grinning so much my cheeks hurt! Brianna was pleased, too, standing up and putting her arm around my shoulder, saying “Yeah, we look like we could be sisters now!” We all laughed, but this really struck me in the heart. Despite it being Friday, I was actually kind of sad as I was being picked up by Angela, as she would be dropping me back off at home, since Daddy got back just an hour before. When Brianna and I got into her car, I adored the fact that we all were still wearing our matching braids. I was sure to tell Angela that I got a lot of compliments and a number of my friends who did my hair. I loved the extra attention, if I’m being honest!

 

When we arrived back at home, Daddy was outside waiting with a big smile on his face. I ran up to him and gave him a big hug, and I still can see the happiness on his face as Angela and Brianna walked over, too. “Wow, look at you three! All my girls have matching hairdos!” Angela laughed as she walked over to give him a kiss. “Well, she was a delight to have, Michael, and we actually got to do some bonding over our hair.” Daddy smiled and lightly picked at one of her long braids, saying “That’s great to hear, sweetheart. And, it looks really nice!” Angela smiled, running the braids through her hands as she smiled a little mischievously and said “Don’t get too used to it though. I’m getting it ALL cut off next week!” This immediately caught my attention, and I said, “Wha-why?” I almost felt like I wanted to cry! She rushed over, leaning over a bit, saying “Oh, honey don’t be so sad! I just feel like trying something new! My hair grows super fast, so I’ll have long enough hair to braid in just a few months and we can match our hair again, ‘kay/” I smiled, feeling a little silly now, and said “Okay, it’s just, you look like a princess with long hair is all.” I now felt REALLY silly and childish, but she squeezed me anyways, understanding what I was trying to say. “Awww, you’re so sweet, Janet! Short hair is pretty too, though! You’ll see, I hope!” I felt a little reassured, but still felt sad at the news. I hugged her and Brianna good-bye, and went inside. Daddy did not like to blast me with lots of questions, but that evening, he did, but in the nicest way possible. He asked how I liked living with Angela and Brianna, how we all seemed to get along, if I felt safe, all good questions. When I was older, I realized that this was his way of checking to see if I could see myself happy living with them.

 

Although Brianna and I attended the same school, she was in 8th grade while I was in 6th, and 7th and 8th grade were in a separate building. Grandma picked me up from school that following week at my building, which meant I didn’t get the chance to see Brianna or Angela, much to my very pronounced disappointment. She and Daddy had a dinner date that week, but as he was going to pick her up, I didn’t get to see her. Of course, those of you over 40 remember life before cell phones, so it’s not like I could have texted Brianna about her mom’s hair, and even if I could have, how weird of a text would that be?? I was already asleep when Daddy got back that night, but when I was eating breakfast that morning, the first words out of my mouth to him were “How’d Angela’s new haircut?” Obviously, 11-year-old me was not subtle! He chuckled, saying “Wow, not even a good morning?” I rolled my eyes, but said “Good morning, Daddy. How’s Angela’s new haircut look?” He smiled, “Much better. She wasn’t joking when she said she’d have it taken all off. It’s super short, but she looks just as pretty as she did before. She actually asked about you, too, Janet! She was hoping you would be able to join her and Brianna at the mall on Saturday. She’s taking Brianna to get her ears pierced, and she finally convinced me that you’re ready, too, but only ONE per ear, got it?” I was ecstatic! I had begged to get my ears pierced for the past 12 months, and I had always been told no. On top of this, trips to the mall were a treat, and the fact that I’d be joining Angela and Brianna sent me over the moon!

 

The rest of the week dragged by at a punishingly slow pace, but when Saturday morning came, I was already up, washed, and dressed by 7:30 AM! Daddy, an early riser, noted with a laugh “You don’t even normally get ready for school this quickly! She called me last night and said she’ll be here around 1 o’clock, okay?” I was so excited that I had a stomach ache! Finally, just before 1:00, I saw her white and wood-trimmed sedan pull into our driveway, and Daddy walked me outside. The car door opened, and Angela’s long legs swept around and out of the car before she stood up. My jaw dropped as she walked to greet us, grinning from ear to ear. Her long, almost raven colored hair was replaced with a rich, lighter chocolate brown, very short, bowl cut that rested evenly above her eyebrows and swayed magically as she walked. “Well, what do ya think, kiddo?” she said, sticking her hands out underneath her radically different hairstyle. All I remember saying was “Woah, you look amazing, Angela! It’s so short!” She hugged me, saying “Aw, thanks! Yeah, I know it’s a little last decade, but I asked my stylist to give me the Dorothy Hamill, and she took it even shorter. Here, look how short she took me in the back!” She leaned over and showed me the back of her head, lifting the bob up to reveal very short hair that was shaped into a sharp V that ran from the base of her neck to the bottom of the hairstyle. While a true bowl cut can look kind of dorky, I thought it looked so pretty on her, and was amazed at how different she looked, too! The car ride over to the mall was almost entirely based on my questioning of Angela about her new hairdo, and she was gracious enough to humor me. I think Brianna might have been a little annoyed, but she didn’t say anything hinting at telling me to be quiet, though that’s probably what she was thinking!

 

We went straight to a nail salon, which also offered piercing. Angela must have been a regular, because I also remember one of the nail stylists shrieking “Ms. Angela, you cut your hair! It looks so GOOD!” Several other stylists and clients turned to look at her, and a few echoed polite remarks. One thing I noticed about Angela now was that she was constantly touching the back of her head and ears, which I had done just as much when she had braided my hair. After speaking with one of the employees, all of us went into a back room that was behind all of the nail stations. Angela pulled two velvet black boxes out of her purse, handing one to me, and one to Brianna. Stupidly, I had no idea what they would be, but Brianna beamed as she said “Oh, Mom, I love them!” She held up two gold teardrops, which were inlaid with the letter ‘B’ in cursive. “Well, they were actually meant to be a Christmas gift, but I figured what better time than now?” I opened my box, amazed to see two faux-pearl, single-stud pieces, but to me, it was like a diamond! “Wow, thank you SO much!” I gushed, holding them up in the light. “Well, I couldn’t take you to get your ears pierced without earrings now could I? And you’re welcome, sweetie,” she winked at me. I know it’s a stereotype that step-parents, even before they were your step-parent, try to buy the affection of their spouse’s kids, but done in the right way, well, it can be a pretty nice gesture!

 

A few minutes later, a shorter lady told Brianna and I to clean our ears as she reviewed with Angela what was being done. Brianna was first, and seemed a little nervous. “Okay, sweetie, you’re going to feel a sharp pinch!” Brianna tightly gripped her mom’s hand, and took a sharp intake of air a few seconds later. The first earring was in, and a few seconds later, so was the other one! She sniffled, but was all smiles as she was handed a small mirror to inspect her new accessories. “You’re next, Janet!” smiled Angela, lightly pushing me forward. I was less stoic, whimpering a bit and shedding a few tears as the lady did my ears, but I was offered Angela’s hand just like Brianna. And, just like Brianna, I was now ogling my ears with their newly gifted decorations, and felt like I was a new woman, so to speak. Angela paid, which I thanked her for several times (as Daddy had drilled me to do!), and skipped out of the store. Brianna and I frequently looked at our reflections in the store windows, but even with this, I still found myself staring at Angela’s hair. We stopped to split a hot pretzel between the three of us, and chatted about all of the new earrings we’d save up for and how much more mature we looked and felt. I had only then noticed that Angela herself was sporting a great pair of earrings, and she still has them, a pair of diamond chandeliers. I realize now how much of a brown-noser I must have seemed like to Brianna, but I gushed “Angela, those earrings are so pretty! Are those new?” She chuckled, “Oh, no, I’ve had these for something like 10 years! I just get to show them off more with this haircut. Brianna, you’d be able to show off your ears more with a shorter style, too.”

 

Brianna rolled her eyes, “Moooomm…we’ve talked about this! I don’t want my hair short, at least not now, okay?” It was evidently a bit of a sore subject, but Angela just sighed, nudging her daughter “I know, I know, but I think you should try it sometime, honey. Chrissie said she’d be more than happy to work with you.” Brianna shrugged, but a lightbulb turned on over my head, “Um, Angela, do you think I’d look good with shorter hair?” Angela seemed a bit surprised, saying “I thought you liked your long hair, Janet!” I nodded, “I do, but I was just curious.” I tried to play it cool, but I was suddenly very excited. She ran her hands through her short hairdo, and said “I don’t know, I have such a hard time picturing you with short hair! Why don’t you ask your hairdresser? Where do you have your hair done, sweetie?” My cheeks reddened a little, and I said in a bit of a hushed tone, “Er, my grandma trims my hair. She’s got a haircutting kit. I haven’t been to a salon in a while.” Angela was a quick thinker, because she responded, “Well, she does a very nice job! My mom cut my hair when I was little, so don’t be embarrassed. How about you talk to her?” I was a little disappointed, but agreed that I would.

 

During one of the days that following week, I asked my grandma when she picked me up from school, “Grandma, how do you think I’d look with shorter hair?” She wore her hair in a very typical tight, poodle perm set into a bouffant, but it seemed to fit her. “Hmm, why would you want to cut your hair short, sweetie? I think little girls should have long hair, and you have such lovely hair, Janet. I suppose I could get out a style guide when I give you a trim tonight. How’s that sound?” That evening, Grandma took out her big white bag, and pulled out a very weathered style guide from the 1960s. She and I flicked through it, occasionally stopping on shorter styles, but some, like the pixie, were deemed way too short, and others, like a larger teased bob, seemed too dated. Ultimately, she and I agreed that she’d trim off an inches only, and that we’d revisit the shorter style discussion later. That night, I looked in my vanity for a long time, pulling my hair back, holding up certain sections to try and see what I would look like with a short bob. I felt so conflicted, and suddenly felt that I HAD to talk to Angela about short hair. The next morning, I was given my chance.

 

Daddy had a serious look on his face when I came down for breakfast, and I immediately thought something was wrong. “Janet, I have something important to talk to you about.” I nodded, not saying a word. He sighed as he sat down, rubbing his forehead. He began “Now, please don’t be mad, honey.” I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up. What could he say? Daddy continued, “This is my fault, but I forgot that your birthday is only a couple weeks away. I don’t have anything for you, and wanted to know what you’d like. I’m so sorry I forgot.” I breathed a sigh of relief and smiled, “It’s okay, Daddy!” Last year, I had refused to celebrate, and to his credit, he didn’t force anything on me, and despite both sets of grandparents protesting, he made them respect my wishes. That Christmas, though, was very generous. Anyway, I had a divinely inspired idea. “Um, Daddy, could I go to a hair salon for my gift?” He smiled, relieved that I hadn’t been hurt or mad at him. “Of course! Do you, uh, know where you want to go? I’m, well,” he pointed to his buzzcut, “I’m not going to suggest my barber.” I laughed, “No, Daddy, not your barber! I was actually going to ask Angela if I could have an appointment at her salon, if that’s okay.” He smiled again, saying “Shouldn’t be a problem! I can ask her at dinner tonight.” I smiled, hugging him before grabbing my toast.

 

My thoughts that day were all filled with images of me and Angela, together in a salon. The day and night seemed to pass at a snail’s speed, but the next morning, Daddy was waiting for me, a satisfied smile on his face. “Stop, I already know what you’re going to ask. Angela said she’d love to have you go to her salon. It’s technically an early gift, but she has an appointment next Thursday afternoon, and offered to take you there after school, and you can both have your hair done. Does that sound good to you? Just promise me you won’t dye your hair blue!” I couldn’t contain my excitement and said “Yes! Oh, thank you, Daddy!” I felt like a bolt of lightning struck me! That weekend I didn’t get to see Angela or Brianna, since my Aunt and Uncle came to visit, which was nice, but I had hoped to plan the day out with Angela. The days between Monday and Thursday seemed to take forever and ever to me, and the only reminder during that time I had for the big day was that Angela had told Daddy to tell me that she was very excited.

 

Each night, I fantasized about all the different hairdos I could think of, and how wonderful it was that Angela and I would be in the salon together! At last, Thursday came. I spent almost an hour deciding what my outfit would be, trying on several outfits and hanging them back up. I finally decided on my pink ruffled jumper, red corduroy skirt, white stockings, and black mary janes. Once school finally let out, I proudly marched over to the other building’s parking lot, where I could see Angela’s car already waiting for me. I climbed into the back, smiling as big as I ever had. Angela was also smiling, saying “Ready for our date, gorgeous? Hey, why don’t you ride up front with me?” I was surprised, but said “Isn’t Brianna going to be coming with us?” Angela shook her head, “Nope, she’s going home with a friend today to work on a project and have dinner with her folks. It’s just you and me, kiddo!” Giggling, I ran around, climbing into the front seat. I had tied my hair back in a pony tail, a simple band holding it in place. As we drove, Angela said “Now, I’m just getting my hair trimmed and shaped up a little, but you and I are both seeing Chrissie today. She’s great, and she knows how excited you are, too!”  I was so eager that I could feel my heart beating in my ears! The salon has a different name now, but when Angela and I went there that day, it was called Salon Franklin, though Mr. Franklin had long since retired.

 

When we walked in, I knew immediately that this was not like the little rinky-dink salon I had visited years before; this was a true ladies beauty salon! The walls were white and black, and the floor was a tiled gold pattern. The hooded dryers were all that quintessentially 80s mustard yellow, but were very clean and new looking. The receptionist, a slightly provocatively dressed woman sporting a very fluffy blonde perm, immediately perked up and said “Hi Angela! So good to see you. Is this the birthday-girl-to-be?” I smiled, a little bashful, saying “Yes, I’m Janet.” The receptionist leaned over her desk, smiling “Hi Janet, I’m Becca. I’ll let Chrissie know you’re both here. I think she just stepped out to get some coffee.” Angela pulled me over to the waiting area to take a seat, taking our coats and hanging them up. She picked up a magazine to leaf through, but I craned my neck to see what was going on in the salon. Several women were having their done, all talking loudly with their stylists. Some of them had perm rods being wound into their hair, while some were having their locks snipped, and one lady was having massive amounts of goopy dye plastered onto her hair. Outside of my last visit to a salon, the extent of hairstyling I’d seen was either the very recent Angela brushing and/or braiding my hair, and on the rare occasion, seeing my Grandma have her hair set in rollers. Seeing so much going on all at once was almost overwhelming, but I was fascinated and engrossed in everything! Angela tapped me with her magazine, saying “You look so happy, sweetie! I love coming to the salon, so I hope you’ll really have fun today.” Before I could respond, a woman called out to greet us both.

 

The best way for me to describe Chrissie is that she was a cross between Mona Lisa from ‘My Cousin Vinny’, and Janice from FRIENDS. The lady that greeted us was loud, with a classic nasally Brooklyn accent, several jingly bracelets, giant hoop earrings, heavy makeup, heavier perfume, and wearing a puffy dark red low-cut blouse and black leather pants, and to literally top it all off, she wore a giant black perm, teased to a ridiculous height at her crown, giving her hair an almost mullet-like shape. She was definitely a bit heavy, but Chrissie was also definitely dressed to impress, and I couldn’t help but be in total awe of her appearance! “Ahh! Angela, so good to see you, dahling!” She kissed Angela on both cheeks, then leaned over, pinching my cheek, saying “And you, sweet thing, must be Janet! We’re gonna have such a good time makin’ ya over, young lady! Why don’t you both follow me back, and we’ll get started, ‘kay?” Angela grinned at me, then took my hand and led me back through the salon. It was at this point that the smells really hit me as the strong chemical, artificial sweet scents filled my nose. I was definitely not used to the smells, yet! Being not quite 12, I was far and away the youngest one there, so I felt almost like I was breaking the rules and experiencing something forbidden!

 

Chrissie’s area was in the back right, a little bit removed from the other stations. I’m not sure if that was by design, but given how loud of a talker she was, I think everybody appreciated this placement! Chrissie threw a large, salmon colored cape over Angela as she sat down. There was an extra chair against the wall that Chrissie brought over for me and placed adjacent to the front of the styling chair. Chrissie put one hand on her hip and began running a small brush through her client’s hair, “So, just a trim then, Ang? I’m taking your man liked it, too?” Angela smiled, motioning to me “Yes, and we need to be good today, as this lovely gal is his daughter!” Chrissie gasped dramatically, “Oh my gawd, that’s right! Your Daddy’s a lucky man, Janet!” I giggled, and replied “I think so, too!” I actually saw Angela blush a little and she gave me an appreciative smile. Chrissie then said “Do you wanna go a bit shorter, Ang? I know you were a little scared to go any shorter last time, but since you’ve gotten used to it, I’m still thinkin’ you could go a little shorter here.” Angela seemed to debate for a minute, then said with a bit of a nervous smile, “Well, okay, but not TOO short, Chrissie!” Chrissie made another scandalized gasp, but with a smile, proclaiming “Me? Go too short? You’re joking!” She set down her brush, and handed me a couple hardcopy books, filled with hairstyle models. “I’m gonna shampoo Miss Angela here, so why don’t you look through these, and see if ya like anything. Just fold the page down in the corner, and we’ll give ’em a looksie when I’m done with Ang, ‘kay, hon?” I smiled as I held them, and Angela gave me the thumbs up.

 

Angela and Chrissie walked back to the sink area, which was a row of three cream white porcelain sinks and yellowish chairs. I watched as Angela was gently laid back and Chrissie started to shampoo her short locks. They were talking loudly and laughing, but between the hum of the dryers and all of the other conversations happening around the salon, I couldn’t make any of it out. I began paging through the books, amazed at all of the wild hairstyles I saw. Of course, I saw more ‘standard’ styles, too, but I hadn’t seen a style guide from anything after 1965! Years later, it was a very enjoyable blast of nostalgia when I would find a lot of these style guides online that people had scanned. It immediately took me back to this day. However, as fun as it was to page through these books, I couldn’t find anything that really made me think “this one’s for me!”. I was still flipping through one of the books when Angela and Chrissie returned to the styling chair.

 

Angela poked my hand, saying, “You’ll love getting shampooed by Chrissie. She’s a pro!” Chrissie made an exasperated noise, but said “Aw, you don’t have to say that, Ang!” The boisterous stylist ruffled Angela’s hair with the towel, pulling it back and revealing a funny sight of Angela’s short hair now sticking up all over. With a laugh, Chrissie said “Ya know, I could take my blow-dryer, add some mousse and make it spiky like this. You’d look like a rockstar! Whaddaya think, Janet?” I laughed, “I don’t think she’d like it very much.” Chrissie shrugged, but smiled, brushing Angela’s hair down. I expected her to begin cutting, but instead, she used a couple of clips to secure almost all of Angela’s hair on top of her head. “You’ll wanna watch this, honey!” said Chrissie, excitedly. Angela, excited too, raised her eyebrows as she looked over at me. Much to my surprise, Chrissie had taken out a pair of silver chrome and black clippers. Although I now know how they work in a much more technical sense, all I saw then was little metal teeth at the end of the instrument, which were very intimidating. With a loud CLACK she flipped them on, making me jump. They both laughed, and then Chrissie proceeded to tilt Angela’s head to the side, digging the clippers into the small, quarter inch section of loose hair above her ear. I was both shocked and amazed! I had only seen clippers used on Daddy’s head when I’d had to go the barbers with him if Grandma or Grandpa couldn’t watch me. It was almost scary to see them used on a lady, let alone Angela! I don’t know why I hadn’t connected the dots the first time I saw Angela’s beautiful new style, but it was now abundantly clear just exactly how her hair had been cut so short below her bowl cut!

 

Chrissie moved very quickly, rendering the dark stubble that had grown over the past few weeks down to almost nothing, making her skin appear almost gray. When she moved to Angela’s nape, she pushed her client’s head forward, and began running the clippers over everything, even the hair she’d left a little longer before to form the V shape. I was almost horrified, but Angela was actually wearing a smile as this was being done to her! Chrissie was also smiling, and was clearly very focused. When she had finished Angela’s nape, she mirrored the other side, making short work of the loose hair and stubble. I had become used to the noise of the clippers by this point, so when Chrissie turned them off, I was surprised how much noise they’d actually been making! Angela was smiling, rubbing the freshly shorn hair with her hands. Chrissie smiled, saying “I thought you’d appreciate the full treatment this time, Ang. Here, come feel the shaved areas, Janet!” I felt a little weird, but Angela bent her head down, allowing me to reach. Tentatively, I reached up and ran my hand up her nape, gasping and pulling back almost immediately. The closest I could describe it was Daddy’s face when he hadn’t shaved that day. It felt like sandpaper, but obviously softer. I put my hand back, touching it one more time, saying in a whisper “That feels good!” They both laughed again, but I didn’t get the feeling I was being made fun of, rather that they agreed! “It’s one of the best parts of this style!” said Chrissie, unclipping Angela’s hair. I couldn’t help but agree.

 

Chrissie’s scissors replaced the clippers, and she now began taking Angela’s hair just a little shorter. Angela and Chrissie were now talking about some mutual friend of theirs, but they could have been talking about unicorns and ponies for all I would have known! I was utterly transfixed by Chrissie’s work. Angela’s bowl cut was rapidly returned to its eponymous shape as tiny snippets of hair rained down onto the cape. Soon, her damp hair was now a perfect bowl once more, but Chrissie wasn’t done yet. Shaking a large can of mousse, she poured some into her hand and rubbed it into Angela’s hair. She then picked up her hairdryer and a round brush, carefully lifting up a section with the brush and applying heat. Chrissie wrapped the brush in such a way the she was able to curl the ends inward ever so slightly, creating lift and a very round shape. She was soon finished, leaving Angela with an even shorter, but still just as perfectly shaped and uniform bowl cut as before. Angela smiled as she was shown the back with a separate mirror, and turned her head from side to side. It swished so magically with even the tiniest movement, and had the most wonderful sheen. It now rested a full inch above her eyebrows, and nearly an inch and a half above her ears! Even by 1980s standards, this was a bold look. Chrissie was gushing with praise, and Angela was turning it right back. Finally, as should be expected of this era, Chrissie used a generous helping of hairspray over her client’s hairdo.

 

Chrissie then shook out the cape before undoing the clasps. Angela stood up and looked over at me, a big smile on her beautiful face, and said “Well, how do you like it, Janet?” I smiled back, replying “It looks really, really good Angela! It’s amazing!” I wish I could have been more articulate when I was younger! Chrissie walked over, too, saying “Did I do good, kiddo?” I nodded, still staring at Angela. “Well, I’m not done yet, today! Here, let’s get a cape on ya, and we’ll see what we’re doin’ here!” Chrissie retrieved a slightly smaller cape, but it was still salmon colored and just as thick as Angela’s looked. I hopped into the chair, now almost shaking with excitement and nerves! Chrissie pumped the chair up several inches, my feet now dangling freely in the air. Angela was standing behind me, her hands exploring her freshly shorn skin, but her eyes on me. Chrissie returned a moment later, clapping her hands together and saying loudly, “So what are we doin’ today, princess? Angela told me you’re turning the big 1-2 soon. You looking for something more grown-up? She also mentioned you were maybe looking to go a bit shorter.” I looked at Angela, who nodded, encouragingly. I nodded, mustering up my confidence, “Uh-huh. I definitely want to go shorter, please.” She smiled, “Well, I can certainly do that for ya. Say, Ang, do you think she’d want a perm? I think she’d be adorable in curls.” Angela shook her head, “Mm, I think she’s still a little young for a perm. Sweetie, did you see anything in the books that you liked?” Chrissie undid my band and began brushing my hair down and out. I frowned, thinking “No, I didn’t really like any of them that much.” Chrissie nodded, “Well, I guess how short are ya looking to go, dahling? You didn’t see ANYthing you liked?” I’ll cut it any way you want, but I need somethin’ to go off of, sweetheart.”

 

I then felt my cheeks go a bit pink. There was really only one hairdo I’d seen that day that had blown me away. “Well I guess I did see one style that I liked.” Chrissie smiled, “Perfect, and which one was that?” I looked down, embarrassed, but said as confidently as I could manage “Um, can I have my hair cut like Angela’s, please?” There was a moment of shocked silence, then Angela put both her hands on my shoulders, and said “Janet, are you sure? I mean, this is such a big change you’re talking about! Why do you want to go that short?” I smiled, still looking at the ground, covered with her hair. “I dunno, I mean I DO know, it’s just, um, you look so pretty with your hair like that, and, um, I want to look pretty like you, too.” I felt myself getting more embarrassed, but I also felt a great sense of relief having finally said something that I’d been bursting to say for weeks! Angela walked around and held my hand, smiling, “I’m so flattered, Janet, but I think your dad would be very angry with me if you had all your hair cut off like me.” I laughed, and said “He only said that I couldn’t have it dyed blue!” Chrissie laughed too, saying “I guess that settles it then! TWO bowl cuts for two gorgeous ladies! Ooh, you’re gonna LOVE this, kiddo!” I grinned, giggling as Chrissie lowered my chair. “First, I gotta shampoo ya though, so follow me over here, Janet!” Still smiling, I took her outstretched hand and followed her over to the sinks.

 

She pulled over a taller chair, a little embarrassingly, but then patted the seat, “Climb aboard, sweetie!” I jumped up on the seat, feeling her gently lower my neck onto the lip of the sink and my head into the basin. “You’ll get my BEST shampooin’ today, hon!” Chrissie said, turning on the water. I could only manage smile in reply, but she didn’t take offense to my silence. The warm water soaked my hair, and she expertly began running her long nails through. After a minute or two, she poured a healthy dose of shampoo into my locks and scrubbed vigorously, but was careful not to cause any discomfort. The image that dominated my memory of this was that I felt like Chrissie massaged my scalp and hair in a similar way to how Angela kneaded the dough on the night she’d cooked homemade pizza for Brianna and me. It was delightful, and I was clearly enjoying it, because Chrissie said a bit teasingly, “Well, SOMEone’s enjoying her first salon shampooing, huh?” I hadn’t realized that I had closed my eyes until this remark brought me back to the real world! “You’re so good at it!” was all I could think to say, but she nodded in appreciation. While this feels a little inappropriate to describe, I would often close my eyes when being shampooed by Chrissie, because she would often lean over me while working, and her, well, large breasts would often hang just a few inches over my eyes. However, it certainly wasn’t anything intentionally done on her part.

 

The divinely enjoyable shampooing continued for what felt like ages, and I felt very tingly when she rinsed the last of the shampoo out. She had used a strongly scented product that smelled like oranges, but in a very nice way. Chrissie wrapped my hair in a fluffy towel and escorted me back to the styling chair. Angela was, understandably, scrutinizing her appearance in the mirror when we walked back, but sat down as Chrissie helped me back into the chair. Angela smiled at me and said “So, wasn’t that the best shampooing you’ve ever had, Janet?” I nodded enthusiastically, “That was the best! It feels so nice having someone else do it, and it’s so relaxing. Thank you so much!” Chrissie squeezed my shoulder as she raised my chair up several inches again. “You’re so polite! I’m glad ya enjoyed it, sweetheart! Now, ready to go short?” I nodded enthusiastically again. Chrissie clapped her hands together, smiling at me and Angela, who also looked excited. My stylist wasted no time, picking up a brush and running it through my locks, pulling it all away from my face before sectioning it with clips and pins. Chrissie picked up a fresh pair of shears from her station, but before she started, she said in a sincere tone, “You’re absolutely sure ya wanna do this, hon? It’ll grow back, but you’re gonna have short hair for a while!” I bit my lip, but remained confident as I looked at Angela, who gave me a reassuring smile and nod. “Uh-huh! I’m sure!”

 

Chrissie didn’t need to be told twice. The loose hair above my right ear was cut, raining down a nearly two foot section onto the floor. I felt the cool metal press against my scalp as she worked around my head. She had secured the back into two pony tails, one that folded over the top, and one that was at the same level as the rest of the loose hair above my ears. With a bit of effort, she cut above the rubber band holding it in place and lightly dropped it into my lap. I gasped, but also smiled. I couldn’t believe that I was really doing this! “Wow!” was all I said as I held it up before dropping it onto the ground. Looking back, I’ve had several girlfriends who had long hair and eventually cut it short, and many of them said it was an emotional experience, and some of them even cried! For whatever reason I didn’t shed a single tear, but it was still an emotional experience. I felt such admiration and parental affection for Angela, even if I couldn’t really understand it at that point, and I was so, so happy to be having my hair done like hers! Chrissie continued cutting all of the remaining loose hair until the only long hair remaining was pinned up above my ears. It was a weird look to be sure, and at this point, I did feel a little self-conscious. Angela must have seen it on my face, because she tapped my leg with her foot and said “Don’t worry, sweetie; no one looks good halfway through their makeover!” Chrissie clicked her tongue, shaking both of my shoulders and saying “Oooh, trust me sugar, you’ll look like a million bucks when this is done! Now, I’m going to be using the clippers, so don’t worry. They’re not gonna hurt or nothin’, but I don’t want ya moving in the chair, ‘kay?” I was now suddenly much more anxious, but also a bit gleeful. Before Chrissie retrieved her tool, however, Angela spoke up, saying “I don’t want her taken as short as me, Chrissie. I think she’s a little young to go quite that far. Can you leave it a bit longer?”

 

Chrissie nodded, surprisingly serious, and said “Ya know, I think you’re right, Ang. You’re old enough to pull off a little less hair, but she’s just a little too young for your exact style. This’ll soften it up a bit, too.” I didn’t say anything, which wasn’t unusual, but I remember being slightly disappointed at this, because I wanted to look JUST like Angela. I also didn’t want to argue and make it awkward, not that two adults would have argued with a nearly 12-year-old pre-teen, anyway! I wish I knew what guard number she put on the clippers, but I don’t. However, I can still see her putting on a black guard, then flipping the clippers to life. Just as she had with Angela, she then placed one hand on my head and carefully drove the clippers into my locks. I immediately started giggling as the loud clippers made short work of my hair, filling my lap and the surrounding floor with light brown tresses. Even from the first time, I enjoyed having the clippers used on me, and I think it is for the same reason people like horror movies: the thrill of the danger, and the possibility it could all go wrong! While I had never ever REALLY thought that Chrissie would decide to run the clippers all over my head, I knew that one wrong move, and ZIP! I’d be losing a lot more hair than planned!

 

As Chrissie ran the clippers over the back of my head and up my nape, I still continued to giggle as she pushed my head forward. I think because I had seen Angela had them used on her, and to her enjoyment, I got over the initial extreme fear almost immediately, though it would be several more trips to the salon before I was certain that I wouldn’t be leaving with a buzzcut! At that time, I remember thinking that it felt like I was being tickled, but more deeply. The heat that was generated from the clippers was more and more noticeable as Chrissie went over certain areas again “Ya like that, kiddo?” she smiled, pulling back for a moment. I laughed and said “Yeah, they feel funny!” My stylist chuckled, “Well, I’m just glad you’re not cryin’!” With that, she continued her work. When she was done with my nape, she pulled my head back up and turned it to the side, so that I was now facing Angela. I grinned at her, and she smiled back, saying “It looks like we both enjoy having clippers used on us, Janet! You already look so mature with short hair, birthday-girl!”

 

I had been so preoccupied with the new exciting sensations that I had barley even glanced at the mirror. Chrissie stopped her buzzing, and turned me to face the mirror, beaming “Well, how ya liken’ it so far, sweetheart?” As cliché as it sounds, I barely recognized myself! With most of my hair tightly pinned up on top of my head, it looked like I HAD received a buzzcut! The super short hair that surrounded my now fully displayed ears was barely long enough for me to pinch between two fingers, but had been left long enough to still cover my skin fully without revealing any of the skin around my ears. Still, it was very jarring, and I was briefly afraid that I actually looked like a boy. However, Angela stood up and suppressed these fears, rubbing her hand over the freshly clipped areas, and said “I think you’re going to look very pretty, Janet! Chrissie, do you think you could maybe wedge her nape? Give her a bit of something special?” Chrissie squealed, nodding her head, her giant perm bouncing up and down “Ooh, of course!” Turning the clippers back on, she removed the guard and forced my head down again, facing my lap. At this moment, I actually did feel a bit scared, as I felt her turn her buzzing tool to the side, pressing the blades against my skin. I wouldn’t see the result for a couple of minutes, but Chrissie buzzed away areas on the bottom left and right of my nape, changing her clean rectangular work to a sharp, pointed V. When she turned the clippers off, she turned me to face the mirror, but was now holding a small mirror so that I could see my nape. I smiled with shocked delight at the crisply shaped V that now started at the base of my neck, and fanned out in a perfect triangle up to the bottom of my ears! It was very similar to how she had styled Angela’s nape, so of course my reaction was “Wow, I LOVE it! It’s almost exactly like hers!”!

 

Chrissie rightly interpreted this as meaning I was happy, so she began unclipping large amounts of my hair on top. After the clippers, Chrissie’s use of her shears to layer my hair seemed less dramatic, but was still so exciting. As she bobbed my hair, huge sections again resumed falling onto my lap, and the furious sounds of her rapid shearing filled my ears. Despite her speed, she was still careful to make the ends perfectly straight, using a comb to run through the cropped locks and snip away anything that went through the tines. I was amazed as the hair on my right side very quickly assumed the same, rounded shape as Angela’s. She repeated the motion on my back, and I could feel again the shears occasionally press against my skin. With each snip, I was imagining my head becoming lighter and lighter, and soon, it wasn’t imagination. My head genuinely felt less heavy! Every so often, she would ruffle my hair, too, releasing dozens of tiny hairs. After she finished my left side, she ruffled it again, causing my ears to become full of these little hairs. However, she wasn’t ready to address this, yet, as she reached one of the final steps, releasing the final sections of longer hair, covering my eyes entirely. Chrissie didn’t say anything, but both Angela and I uttered a small gasp she created my bangs, the hair hitting my cape with a light thud. Frustratingly, I couldn’t see myself, as she was now standing directly in front of me, and whenever I opened my eyes to take a peek, I only saw Chrissie’s hands and chest. She ran the comb through my several times, brushing all of the hair straight down again and again, snipping off increasingly tiny pieces of hair. The entire experience felt intoxicating, and I was really losing myself in the sensations and sounds of Chrissie cutting my hair. While Angela brushing my hair had felt delightful, I felt pampered here like never before. Although my enjoyment of the hair salon would sharpen and evolve over the years, this first ‘true’ hair salon experience was so impactful, and was generating unique feelings of pleasure for me.

 

Chrissie then spun me again to face Angela, who still looked happy, but also a bit nervous. “Well, how’d I do, Ang? I can fluff it out a little, and maybe brush it under?” Angela again ran her fingers over her own bowl cut, and said “She looks…wow…yeah, give her a little extra volume, Chrissie. Janet, honey, it’s really short, but you look adorable!” I couldn’t respond, because Chrissie was now blowing a hairdryer over my ears and face, removing the tiny loose hairs. She also did something I have never encountered in another stylist: Chrissie actually pulled out a few Q-tips, and very gently wiped my ears out, making me laugh as she then blew into each ear when she was done, making Angela laugh, too. I know this would be seen as weird today, maybe even bordering on inappropriate, but this successful attempt at making me laugh was very endearing, and it was this endearment that guaranteed Chrissie would be my go-to stylist until she retired.

 

She again turned my chair away from the mirror, picking up her hairdryer and brush, running the latter through my now entirely short hair, which instantly felt very different. Carefully, she turned the brush under as she reached the ends, and I was able to picture the same actions she had performed on Angela. Finally, she uncapped that oh-so-iconic chrome blue can of AquaNet hairspray, and gave me a light spraying. “There, can’t have ya sittin’ in my chair an’ NOT have ya sprayed, dahling! Oh, my gawd! You look so CUTE! Ready to see, kiddo?” I almost screamed “YES!” but nodded emphatically, spluttering out “Uh-huh!”. Giggling, she spun me back to the mirror. I was utterly speechless! My hair, just like Angela’s, had been completely changed! I now had a perfectly shaped bowl cut that came to rest just above my ears and eyebrows, the ends perfectly curled under slightly, giving it a true bowl shape. Unlike so many bowl cuts from that time, Chrissie had followed my request, and made mine dead level all the way around, just like Angela’s. I had never worn bangs before, or at least not since I could remember, and I recall thinking that my hairdo was now basically just one giant set of bangs! Chrissie hadn’t held back on the style living up to its name, either. Modern pixies and short bobs have texture and tousled hair. Not this cut, though! She had brushed and then sprayed my bowl cut perfectly straight, so that no hint of waviness interrupted the perfectly even shape. If she had used shinier holding product, it honestly could have been a helmet! Another thing I remember thinking was how SMALL my head looked now, with the giant salmon colored cape covering the rest of me. I mean, obviously, as an ALMOST 12-year-old, I didn’t have a large head to begin with, but I remember thinking that clearly. My ears were not as exposed as Angela’s, but they were definitely not hidden anymore! Those wonderful new earrings were now on full display. I would always be sure to wear them from that point on, as often as I could, now that I would be showing off my ears all of the time!

 

Chrissie was babbling, but I honestly wasn’t paying attention, only nodding my head as she showed me the back again, now presenting the full effect of her work on my nape and neck. Now that the bowl cut was in place, the short, cropped buzzed hair led up to it, creating a dramatic jump in length. I shook my head, squealing with delight, the first sound I think I made, seeing the ends flick up all around before returning to the bowl shape. I finally mustered up the courage to reach out my hand from underneath my cape and touch my new hairdo. I started laughing as I felt the soft, soft hair that was only achievable with those clippers, and lightly patted my bowl cut, feeling it bounce a little as I pressed it with my fingers. Finally, I could understand English again, as Chrissie said, “So, I take it you’re one happy customer, right? Isn’t she jus’ the cutest little thing, Ang? Honestly, the two of you with your bowl cuts, you could be her mother!” With that, I whipped around to Angela, who was smiling, very brightly. Angela walked over to the cair, and placed her hands on my shoulders in a very affectionate way. “You know, you’re right Chrissie! Janet, you look even prettier than you did walking into here. I feel like I’m looking at a tiny me! You made me nervous when you asked for this style, Janet, but Chrissie did her usual wonderful work, and you really wear it nicely, sweetie! I think you have something to say to Chrissie, though, right?” My stylist smiled at me through the reflection, and I blushed a little as I said “Thank you, Chrissie. I really, really, like it!” She cupped my cheeks in her hands as she lowered my chair and said “Awww, you’re welcome, honey! I can’t stand how CUTE ya look! Lookin’ like a real young lady now, too. Here, let me get that cape off ya.”

 

She undid the cape, gently taking my arm to help me out of the chair. She then turned me to face a full-body mirror that was right next to her station, and I saw the new me for the first time without being covered from the neck down. The almost hour I had spent that morning picking my outfit had been worth it, in my mind at least, for this moment! While my outfit colors might have been more appropriate for Valentine’s Day than the Fall, the ensemble coupled with my new hairdo, made me think I looked like I could be Angela’s sister more than her daughter! I really believed that I looked older, and Chrissie had skillfully managed to make sure, despite the short style, that I looked feminine, and not like a little boy, which even I would admit I did when I was just in my pajamas! Angela dispelled my illusion of maturity, however, when she hugged me from the side as we looked at our reflections, reminding me what a REAL lady looked like! Angela and I posed in several ways in front of the mirror, despite my usual shyness, for a few minutes, both of us laughing the entire time.

 

After humoring us for a bit, Chrissie poked me on the back, giggling “Let’s get ya a little gift bag, huh? You two fashionistas can do all the mirror stuff when ya get home, ‘kay? Ang, I’ll ring ya out up front in just a minute, gorgeous.” Angela held my hand and walked me back to the front. The receptionist was very surprised by both of our appearances, saying “Wow, look at you two! Matching hairdos!” I laughed, leaning into Angela, who said “Trust me, I was as surprised as you are with what she wanted!” Chrissie’s loud footsteps followed just a few seconds later, her giant perm and chest still bouncing with each step. She was a little red in the face and winded, but grinned as she thrust a small bag into my hands, “Here ya go, dahling! On the house!” I opened the bag to find a bottle of the fanciest shampoo I’d ever seen, a new tail comb, a rolled up mini style-guide, and a thin can of hairspray, something I’d never had of my own! “Oh, WOW! All for me? Thank you so much!” Chrissie leaned down to give me a big hug and pecked my cheek, laughing “Well, it’s your birthday, after all, kiddo! Plus, Ang told me you’ve been goin’ through it, so just think of this as a little somethin’ extra for ya, sweetheart.” She then hugged and kissed Angela on each cheek before ringing her out. She and Angela chit-chatted for a minute, but I remember feeling so happy in that moment. As I touched my nape, ears, and every other area on top of my head, I was almost convinced I was dreaming. Even if I didn’t know the word then, the best words I can now use are wonderfully surreal.

 

A gentle nudge brought me back to the real world as Angela said “How’d you like to come back in a month for a trim, Janet? Chrissie can book us a double slot if you want.” I blinked, then grinned “Oh, yeah! That’d be GREAT!” Chrissie laughed, “Well, THAT’S the kinda response I like to hear! I’ll pencil ya both in, then. Alright, enjoy the rest of your day, ladies!” She gave Angela another hug, and beamed at me again with a wave before we left. It wasn’t especially cold that day, but even after putting my coat back on, I laughed as the cool air whipped around so much newly exposed areas on my head. Angela leaned on me, giggling “Brrr! Normally I go shorter in the summer, not the fall!” I shook my head, stopping to see the sight as my hair returned to the bowl shape, grinning ear-to-ear. Angela crouched down so we were at the same level, saying “Gosh, we’re going to give your Daddy a huge shock when he sees us like this! You look just darling though, Janet. I hope you’re happy with your new look!” I turned to her, and immediately gave her a hug, saying “I just love it, Angela! This is my favorite birthday gift ever! I hope you don’t mind that we both have matching hairdos now, almost.” She stood up from the hug, taking my hand, exclaiming “Mind!? No, you paid me such a compliment by wanting to have your hair styled just like mine! I’m truly flattered, and it was very fun watching you get done up like that. This was a gift for me, too, Janet. Now, let’s get you home for dinner with your Daddy before it gets much later, sweetie. I actually have an idea…”

 

The ride home was a blur of mutual compliments and questions, and that happy fog still enveloped my bowl-cut like hairspray, even as she parked the car. Before she got out, Angela turned to me and said “Okay, just like we practiced. I’ll get out first, then you follow right behind me.” I nodded, covering my mouth to keep from laughing too loudly. Angela quickly exited the car, opening my door as I carefully hopped out and walked perfectly behind her as she approached the front door. She rang the doorbell, lightly pushing me to make sure that I was completely hidden. Daddy opened the door, and even though I couldn’t see it, I could hear the smile, “Hey, beautiful! Wow, you look fantastic!” He gave her a kiss, which she leaned into, careful not to move away from me. He then said, “But where’s Janet? Is she getting her backpack?” On cue, I jumped out, putting my hands on my hips, almost shouting “Here I am, Daddy!” Just as predicted, Daddy was stunned, silent for almost five full seconds before saying “Holy cow! Janet, you, you look just like Angela!” I nodded, “Yep! Just what I wanted, too, Daddy!” He looked at Angela a bit incredulously, asking “Really?” Angela nodded sincerely, “George, I swear I had nothing to do with it! I was shocked she wanted a bowl cut, too! Doesn’t she look just precious, though?” He looked back at me, smiling, and picked me up for a moment, “Well of course! She always looks precious. Are you able to stay for dinner, Angela?” I tugged on her skirt, saying “Oh, please, can you, Angela?” She feigned contemplation, saying “Well, I guess I can. What are you cooking?” He looked a bit sheepish, saying “Uh, leftovers.” Walking inside, she sighed in disappointment, but added, “Oh no, I don’t think so. Let’s see what I can whip up instead.”

 

Daddy had recently devised a cunning plan whenever Angela might be stopping by for dinner. While it’s not as if he would prepare gruel for us, Angela was miles ahead of him culinary-wise. So, he would always make sure the fridge was stocked with ingredients, should she decide to grace us with her talents, which she almost always did. That night, I can still taste it, she prepared seasoned chicken and spinach, accompanied by her wonderful red sauce and Barilla penne, one of the few premade pastas she found acceptable. While I worked on some math problems, I was frequently distracted by watching her wonderfully styled hair flutter and bounce in harmony with each knife stroke as she diced the onions and peppers for the sauce. Daddy helped, but I could tell he was also distracted by her, though in a different way, obviously. Dinner was, unsurprisingly, amazing, and Daddy let me talk all about my new haircut, and Angela prodded me for more details, really making me feel like a guest of honor, even at my own home. Eventually, though, Angela had to leave, but not without helping clean the dishes on top of cooking, saying that she didn’t want to get home too late, in case Brianna needed something. Angela gave me a hug and a kiss that night before leaving, though, saying with so much sincerity I could hardly stand it, “I really, really, had a great time getting our hair done together, Janet. It really suits you just perfectly, and I’m glad we don’t need to wait for your next birthday to do it again!” She really kept the glow of happiness I had been feeling as strong as ever, and I went to bed that night happier than I had in a long, long time. Even better, Daddy could tell this, too, and while I won’t take credit, obviously, it was only a month later that he popped the question to Angela, not too long after our shared follow-up visit, I should add.

 

The next day was very out of the ordinary for me. While my class hadn’t yet segmented off into the stereotypical cliques and classes yet, I was not by any means one of the ‘popular’ girls. However, when I got to class, I, or rather my bow cut, was the center of attention, with almost all of the girls grouping around me, shocked at the dramatic change and asking me dozens of questions. I, if I am being honest, relished the attention, and even our teacher paid me a compliment. I didn’t start a trend, unfortunately, but I think I earned some social credit with some of the more popular girls by being so daring with my hair. Brianna screamed the first time she saw me, but was very complimentary, though she did say that it was ‘weird’ to see me and her mom with such similar hairdos. I wish I could say that Brianna eventually joined us in getting a matching bowl cut hairstyle, but she did not. The closest she and I ever came to being hair twins was the wedding as flower girls, where we both had practically a garden atop our heads, obscuring most of our hair anyway!

 

While Angela and I wouldn’t always have matching styles, we were never too far from one another, so when she decided to get a very curly perm a few years later, I also had to experience this particular style for the first time, but that’s a story for another time, maybe!

 

I hope you liked this story. It felt great to write, and even if a bit less exciting than a lot of the other stories here, maybe it made some of you smile. This also took a lot longer to write than I thought it would, but maybe if enough people like this, I could write a following chapter, but I don’t know when that would be. I also know that by putting this out there, I’m opening myself up to some criticism and feedback, which of course I am open to, so long as it’s not too nasty. Thank you for reading, and like I said, hope you liked it!

 

-HairJaned