You’re So Vain

Day 1

You walked in to the party, like you were walking onto a yacht

Kat opened her eyes, blearily. The clock radio had a mind of its own; she could never tell what station it would wake her up with. Today, it sounded horribly like Radio 2. What day was it anyway?

Your hat strategically dipped below one eye, your scarf it was apricot

“Good morning, dear.” Her mum bustled in, knocking on the door as she did. “You haven’t forgotten that it’s Saturday, have you? Grandma’s party?”

“Mmmm, er, yeah, no.”

You had one eye in the mirror as you watched yourself gavotte

“So… I was just wondering if you’d changed your mind? About coming to the hairdressers with me?”

And all the girls dreamed that they’d be your partner, they’d be your partner

Kat’s brain finally caught up. Grandma was having a family celebration for her 80th birthday, Uncle Barry was going to take ‘official’ photos, so Mum and Gran had been badgering her to not just wear some awful frumpy dress, but also to cut her precious long hair. Not bloody likely.

“No mum,” she sighed. “I’m not cutting my hair off just for some stupid party.” She rolled over and closed her eyes again. What was that song? Oh yeah.

You’re so vain….

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Really, dear? If I can’t persuade you to put on a dress, couldn’t you at least, well, cover yourself up a bit more? And put a comb through your hair?”

Kat had, naturally, ignored her mother’s pleas to wear a ‘nice dress’ and make herself look ‘presentable’. She’d chosen a skirt which barely covered her bum, and a top which exposed what she felt was just the right amount of cleavage.

“It’s just some stupid party. It doesn’t matter what I wear. And I’m not taking hair advice from you, not when you look like that. It’s not like your mummy bob was fashionable, or anything, but at least you didn’t look like bloody Margaret Thatcher.”

“Katherine! Language!” Heather frowned at her daughter. “I had a shampoo and set because Mother asked me to. She wants us all looking our best for the photos.”

She reached up and felt the unfamiliar lacquered curls. “Your father said I looked very smart. Which I’m afraid is more than we can say for you.”

Kat rolled her eyes. “If you want to look like an old woman, that’s up to you. But I’m nineteen, and I’ll dress how I want.” She strutted out of the door on her three-inch heels, confident that her tousled waist length hair and flirty outfit would attract plenty of attention.

Heather sighed and glanced in the hall mirror. She supposed that the shampoo and set did make her look a bit matronly, especially with the long, pleated floral dress. Still, she knew that her mother would appreciate it. It was just a shame that Katherine was too self absorbed to make a similar effort.

“I’m pleased you’re wearing that dress I bought you, Heather, and your hair suits you like that. Much better than having it hanging in your face.” Constance smiled tightly at her daughter.

“Happy Birthday, Mother.” Heather forced a smile in return, wondering how her mother always found something to criticise, even when she was seemingly complimentary.

“Katherine? It’s er, lovely to see you dear.” Constance’s tone of voice suggested the exact opposite. “You do know that we’re having photographs, later?” She turned to Heather. “I thought you were going to take her to the hairdressers, and get that mop tidied up?”

Heather shrugged helplessly. “I tried. She wasn’t having any of it.”

“Yeah, well, happy birthday gran. Nice to see you too.” Kat made no effort to conceal her sarcasm, and headed off through some double doors, looking for the bar.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Vodka tonic please. Large one.” Kat drummed her long, scarlet nails on the top of the bar.

“You with the Hargreaves party?” The bartender asked, handing her a tall glass, whilst staring at her exposed cleavage.

“Yeah. Is there a tab open?” He nodded, and Kat downed her drink. “I’ll have another, then.”

She found a chair in the corner and sat there for a few minutes, flicking through her phone, and taking a few selfies to show off her makeup. She’d spent a good hour applying it, though she didn’t know why she’d bothered. It wasn’t like there were going to be any cute guys here, and she knew perfectly well how her mother felt; only a few years ago, she’d have been sent to the bathroom to wash her face before leaving the house.

She was feeling a little bit guilty about how rude she’d been to her grandmother, and her mum, but the vodka was helping with that. She finished her drink and, feeling slightly spaced-out, decided she should rejoin the gathering.

As she came back through the doors, she noticed a tray with small glasses of bubbly. No-one seemed to be looking, so she quickly downed one, and took another with her. She blinked, and looked around the room, spotting her cousin Annie on her own in a corner.

This could be fun, she thought. Annie was a year younger than Kat, and the kind of girl who adults described as polite, respectful, mature. Kat would have called her a timid, mousy Mummy’s girl. Kat had never seen her wearing anything remotely fashionable, and assumed that her mother still bought all her clothes for her.

Last time Kat had seen her, Annie’s hair was in the same short, plain, neatly-layered cut that she’d had since primary school. Today, though, her head was covered in a short cap of tight curls. Together with the long, shapeless, primly buttoned dress she was wearing, she looked like a frumpy, middle aged housewife.

“Annie!” Kat realised she was probably speaking too loudly, but she didn’t think she was slurring her words. “What on earth have you done to your hair? Or should I say, what has your mother done to your hair?”

She smirked. “Oh, or is it fancy dress? Who have you come as? Hilda Ogden, from Corrie? You should have left your rollers in, then.” She laughed, raucously.

Annie tried to stand up for herself. “I’ve had a perm, Kat. I don’t expect you to like it, but it’s really easy to look after, and Grandma loved it. She said I looked very grown up.”

Kat snorted. “If ‘grown up’ means looking about 50, yeah, you nailed it.” She shook her head and tossed back the rest of her drink. “What a freak.”

She turned and walked away, not noticing or caring how upset Annie was.

“Katherine Henderson!” The voice rang out clearly and stopped Kat in her tracks. “Come back here this minute!”

Kat turned, reluctantly. Her Aunt Jane was standing there, next to Annie, and looking ready to explode. Annie looked close to tears, and Kat suddenly felt overwhelmed by guilt.

“You should be ashamed of yourself, young lady! Not only do you not have the common decency to make yourself look even vaguely presentable for your grandmother’s sake, you decide to ridicule your cousin simply for dressing modestly and keeping her hair neat and tidy.

“I think you need to apologise, right now, and then go and tidy yourself up, as best as you can.”

Kat felt about two inches tall. She really wished that she’d kept her mouth shut. Suddenly, she was overwhelmed by a much more basic urge.

“Urgh. Gotta go.” She rushed out of the door, heading for the ladies’. She just made it in time, holding her long mane out of the way with one hand as she vomited up all the alcohol into the white ceramic bowl. She slumped, hitting her head on the rim and blacked out.

 

Day 2

You walked in to the party, like you were walking onto a yacht

Kat opened her eyes, blearily. She couldn’t remember getting home, never mind getting into bed. God, what had got into her yesterday? Apart from a great deal of vodka and prosecco. Strangely, she didn’t seem to have any trace of a hangover.

Your hat strategically dipped below one eye, your scarf it was apricot

“Good morning, dear.” Her mum bustled in, knocking on the door as she did. “You haven’t forgotten that it’s Saturday, have you? Grandma’s party?”

“Oh, er, what? Is that today? I thought, er….”

“Yes dear, it’s today.” Heather ignored the confusion on her daughter’s face, and ploughed on. “So I was wondering if you’d changed your mind? About coming to the hairdressers with me?”

And all the girls dreamed that they’d be your partner, they’d be your partner

Kat had no idea what was going on. Had yesterday just been a dream? Relief swept over her, then she realised that her mum was waiting for an answer.

“Oh, er, no Mum, I don’t want my hair cut.”

The weirdest thing, she thought, as she closed her eyes again, was that the same song was playing on the radio as in her dream.

You’re so vain….

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Really, dear? If I can’t persuade you to put on a dress, couldn’t you at least, well, cover yourself up a bit more? And put a comb through your hair?”

Kat sighed. She’d decided to take heed of the dream, or whatever it was, and resolved not to get in any fights with anyone. Oh, and stay off the booze too. She eyed up her mother’s stiff, lacquered curls and modest floral dress and tried to be diplomatic.

“You look really nice, Mum. Your hair looks good like that. But I’m nineteen. I’m just not ready to start dressing so conservatively. Sorry.” She did her best to look contrite.

Heather frowned, but decided not to take it any further. She looked in the mirror as Kat slipped out. She did look nice. Betty had given her a very traditional style, to be sure, but it went well with her dress, and she knew that her mother would be pleased.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kat spotted Annie across the room and frowned. She’d successfully negotiated meeting her grandmother, though it was perfectly clear that her hair, nails, skirt, heels, and pretty much everything else had met with disapproval. Still, she’d stayed polite, and was now sipping orange juice rather than vodka.

The sight of Annie, though, was making her very confused. She was standing, looking as awkward as usual, but not only was she wearing exactly the same frumpy, shapeless dress as in Kat’s dream, she also had the same brand new cap of tightly permed curls.

Feeling slightly dazed, Kat drifted across the room towards her. How on earth could she have known, in her dream, that Annie had had a perm? Never mind exactly what she would be wearing? This didn’t make any sense.

“Hi Annie, your, er, hair, it’s, er. What have you done to it?”

Annie stared cooly back at her. “I had a perm, OK, Kat?” She looked pointedly at Kat’s dishevelled tresses and micro skirt. “I don’t expect you to like it, but Grandma does, and it’s actually really easy to look after.”

“Oh, er, yeah, I, er. I wasn’t having a go, I…”

“Yeah, right, I know what you think of me. You’ve told me enough times.”

“But I just… Oh, never mind.” Muttered Kat, walking away. Head spinning, she didn’t notice Aunt Jane until she barged into her, stumbling to recover her balance on her impractical heels.

“Oh, sorry, er, Aunt Jane, I didn’t see you there.” Kat pulled her skirt down and her top up from where they had ended up, before half-heartedly pushing her hair back.

“Katherine.” Aunt Jane frowned at her. “Perhaps you’d be able to see where you’re going if you didn’t have all that mess hanging in your face.”

Kat flushed, embarrassed.

“I can see why your grandmother is so disappointed with your appearance.” Aunt Jane continued scornfully, looking Kat up and down. “She really thought that you would have made some effort to look presentable for the photographs, rather than dressing for some seedy nightclub.”

Kat remembered her intent to avoid arguments, and bit back the reply that rose to her lips. With another muttered apology, she headed for the door, hoping that some fresh air would clear her head and allow her to calm down.

She stood slightly awkwardly on the pavement, wondering whether she was calm enough to risk going back inside, and whether anyone would have missed her. Suddenly, she was jerked back to reality.

“Hey Gorgeous! Sexy legs!” A group of lads, slightly the worse for wear, was leering from across the street. One of them wolf-whistled loudly.

“Show us yer tits, love!” Yelled another.

Kat turned in disgust. It briefly occurred to her that she might not get quite so much of that kind of attention if she dressed a bit more modestly, but then her heel caught the kerb. Her arms flailed wildly as she crashed to the floor. Her head hit the ground and she blacked out again.

 

Day 3

You walked in to the party, like you were walking onto a yacht

Kat opened her eyes, blearily. That must have been a hell of a bang on the head. She reached up, gingerly, to see how big the lump was, getting increasingly confused as she couldn’t find one. What the hell….

Your hat strategically dipped below one eye, your scarf it was apricot

“Good morning, dear.” Her mum bustled in, knocking on the door as she did. “You haven’t forgotten that it’s Saturday, have you? Grandma’s party?”

Kat just blinked at her. “Today?”

“Yes dear, it’s Saturday today.” Heather ignored the confusion on her daughter’s face, and ploughed on. “So I was wondering if you’d changed your mind? About coming to the hairdressers with me?”

And all the girls dreamed that they’d be your partner, they’d be your partner

Kat was ten times as confused as before. She could clearly remember not just one, but two previous versions of what she was being told was today. Was she going mad? Was her whole family playing some elaborate joke on her? But that wouldn’t explain the absence of a lump on her head.

The thought crossed her mind that she was somehow destined to keep repeating the day until she made a success of it, whatever that meant. There wasn’t any rational explanation for it, but that was what it felt like. She supposed that the second attempt at the day had gone a little better than the first, but it still hadn’t exactly ended well.

“Katherine?”

She realised that her mum was still hovering.

“Oh, er, no Mum, I don’t want my hair cut.” she replied, distractedly.

She’d just have to try harder, she supposed. Make even more of an effort not to upset anyone, even Aunt Jane. And if she got it right, she wouldn’t have to listen to this blasted song again.

You’re so vain….

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kat considered her reflection. She’d decided that to avoid a fight with her Aunt, she would have to tone down her appearance somewhat, much as it rankled.

She’d settled on a black skirt, which only sat a few inches above her knees, with, admittedly, a discreet side split,  and an old white blouse. She’d started to button it all the way up, but couldn’t stomach it, and settled for exposing rather less cleavage than usual.

She’d toned her makeup right down, just a bit of lippy and eyeliner, really, and then spent a painful fifteen minutes dragging a brush through her tangled hair, trying to make it as tidy as possible. She’d even borrowed a comb from her mum’s dressing table and forced her hair into the straightest parting she’d had in years.

Kat really hoped that her efforts would be appreciated, but you could never tell with Aunt Jane.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You look, um, nice, dear.” Mum was just back from the hairdressers’, her usual sleek bob coerced into tight curls, stiff and shiny with lacquer. “I’m glad to see you’ve brushed your hair, at least.”

Kat smiled sweetly back at her. “You look nice too, Mum. Your hair looks really good.”

“Oh, er, thank you dear.” She frowned at Kat. “Perhaps I should put yours into plaits. It’s quite windy out, and we don’t want it getting messy.”

Kat tried to conceal her horror. “Oh, er, no Mum, that’s fine. I’ll, er, brush it again when we get there.”

“Well, see that you do.” Heather replied, sternly. “Grandma wants us all looking smart for the photographs. I do wish you’d had it cut, but we can’t change that. I suppose it’s too late to do anything about those talons, either.”

Kat reflexively closed her hands, hiding the long red fingernails. “Oh, er, yes, we need to go. I’ll, er, keep them out of sight in the photos, don’t worry.” She hurried out of the door without waiting for a response.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Annie! Your hair looks lovely, it really suits you. When did you have it done?”

Kat had actually thought about what to say this time, rather than blurting out something that might upset Annie. She looked at Kat, surprised, but seemed to accept her comments at face value.

“Oh, er, thank you Kat. It was last week. Mum said we all had to look really smart for the photos, so she wanted me to have it permed. You, er, didn’t want to have your hair done, then?”

“Er, no, um.” Kat suddenly felt a bit guilty. “Mum kind of suggested it, but, um, well…..” She fiddled nervously with the straggly ends of her hair. Mum had been right, the wind had made rather a mess of her earlier efforts with brush and comb.

Annie sensed Kat’s uncharacteristic discomfort and smiled, mischievously. “You’d look nice with it short, Kat. Much less fuss, and it would stay tidy, and out of your face.”

Kat suddenly had a vision of herself with a short, tight, curly perm like Annie’s, and shook her head to try to clear it. “I, er, I do need to go and brush it. I did tell Mum I’d keep it tidy.” She rushed off in the direction of the ladies’.

She remembered to look where she was going this time, and managed to pull up just short of walking into Aunt Jane, who still didn’t look pleased to see her.

“Good afternoon, Aunt Jane.” Kat offered, as politely as she could.

“Katherine.” she replied, shorty. “I suppose this is your idea of ‘smartly dressed’ is it?”

She didn’t wait for a reply, but pressed on. “That skirt is far too revealing, your blouse should be buttoned all the way up, your fingernails need cutting, and your hair is a complete mess. It’s no wonder your grandmother is so disappointed.”

Kat once again felt mortified, but also frustrated. She’d tried, she really had, and her Aunt, and presumably her grandmother, didn’t seem to have even noticed. Determined not to let this setback get the better of her, she muttered her excuses and headed for the door.

She diverted at the last minute, remembering her encounter with the drunken lads last time, and found a back door instead, hoping once again to clear her head with some fresh air.

The steps down from the door were rather steep, and she briefly questioned the wisdom of going down them in heels, but it was that or perching on the threshold holding the door open. As she started down the steps, a big gust of wind whipped her hair in front of her face, her heel caught on the step, and she missed her frantic grab at the handrail.

As she tumbled down the stairs her only thought was “Not again.”

 

Day 4

You walked in to the party, like you were walking onto a yacht

Kat opened her eyes, blearily. She reached up to her head to see if she could find a lump, but felt only resignation, rather than surprise, when she found nothing there.

Your hat strategically dipped below one eye, your scarf it was apricot

“Good morning, dear.” Her mum bustled in, knocking on the door as she did. “You haven’t forgotten that it’s Saturday, have you? Grandma’s party?”

“No, replied Kat, wearily. “I remember.”

“Good. So I was wondering if you’d changed your mind? About coming to the hairdressers with me?”

And all the girls dreamed that they’d be your partner, they’d be your partner

The vision of herself with Annie’s tight, curly perm returned. Yikes! Was that what she needed to do? Well, she certainly wasn’t ready for that yet.

“No thanks Mum. I don’t want my hair cut.”

It was belatedly getting through to her, though, that her vanity was the cause of all her problems. Her heels, her hair, her inappropriate skirt. She realised that she would have to swallow her pride for one day, and perhaps adopt a little humility.

You’re so vain….

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Surely, Kat thought to herself, this ought to satisfy her Aunt, and her grandmother. Her skirt came right down to her knees, and she wasn’t showing even a hint of cleavage. Most importantly, she’d pulled her hair firmly back out of her face, and secured it with a large clip. It still fell down her back to her waist, but she felt it was neat and tidy, and she was confident it wouldn’t be getting in her eyes, however windy it was.

There was one thing that she’d been trying to ignore, but she couldn’t put it off any longer. Her nails. Even she could see perfectly well that they just didn’t fit with her smartened up look, but unlike everything else she’d done, this couldn’t easily be undone.

She knew what the right thing to do was, though, and she reluctantly sat down with the nail scissors and polish remover. Five minutes later, she was looking down at her hands, her nails short and clean, as they hadn’t been for years.

Oddly, she realised that she actually felt OK about it. She’d been stressing about this all morning, and now it was done, she wondered why she had made such a fuss about it. She looked at herself in the mirror, and smiled.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You look nice, dear.” Mum seemed genuinely pleased with her, for once. “I’m glad that you cut those awful nails. They really did look rather garish.”

“Yes, I know, Mum. I think it was time for them to go.”

“Hmmmm, it’s a shame you didn’t feel the same way about your hair. I’m pleased to see it out of your face for once, but I just know it’s going to be a mess again tomorrow.”

“Well you look lovely, Mum.” Kat, feeling distinctly uncomfortable, tried to divert her mother. “You should have your hair like that more often.”

Heather primped her stiff, formal curls in the mirror. “Do you really think so dear? Mother wanted me to have it set for today. It’s not too… matronly?”

“Not at all! You look really smart.”

“Well, thank you, dear.” Heather smiled. “Shall we go?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Er, can I have everybody over here please?” Uncle Barry tried, unsuccessfully, to make his voice heard over all the background chatter.

“Excuse me!” Aunt Jane, Barry’s wife, was rather more effective. “Can we all gather for the photographs, please!”

Kat duly trooped over along with the others. She had made it further through the day than before, though Aunt Jane had still been a bit sniffy about her appearance. She was relieved that it seemed to be going well, but was half waiting to see what could go wrong next.

She found herself standing next to Jacob and Sebastian, or Jake and Seb, as they preferred, two of her cousins. They were 15 and 16, both massively into skateboarding, and normally looked pretty scruffy. Today, though, they had been thoroughly smartened up. The ripped jeans and baggy t-shirts had been replaced with crisp white shirts and ties, and very new-looking suits.

The changes didn’t stop there. They had previously both had long, unkempt hair which hung past their collars and over their eyes. They would endlessly fiddle with it, pushing it back from their faces only for it to promptly flop back again. Their mother, Kat’s Aunt Ruth, would get extremely exasperated by this, and Kat had heard her threaten more than once to march them down to the barbers for a proper haircut, or even get the scissors out herself.

She’d clearly taken advantage of this occasion to make good on her promise. Both boys had had their hair cut into a severely traditional short back and sides. The hair that was left on top was immaculately side-parted, slicked down tightly and shining in the fluorescent lights. Their necks and ears were bare, and red from what Kat imagined was a good scrubbing with soap and flannel.

“Hi.” She smiled at them, unconsciously flicking her hair back over her shoulder.

Jake just grunted, clearly in a bad mood. Seb didn’t look much happier, but at least he acknowledged her. “How come you get to keep your long hair?” He scowled.  “Just ‘cos you’re a girl. That’s so unfair.”

Kat reflected that a few days ago (or at least, what she thought of as a few days ago) she would have had a good laugh at their expense, teasing them about their unwanted haircuts, and enjoying their discomfort. Now, though, she felt a mixture of sympathy and guilt.

“Well, you do both look very smart.” Kat smiled at them, trying to be diplomatic “Which is what Grandma wanted.”

“Yeah, well it doesn’t look like you made much of an effort.” Jake broke his silence. “And we look like idiots. I can’t wait until it grows again.” He rubbed the tightly clippered back of his head, ruefully.

“Well you’ll be waiting a long time, I’m afraid.” Aunt Ruth, Jake and Seb’s mother, appeared behind Kat. “I don’t know why I ever let you have it long, but now it’s short, it’s staying that way. Grandma was so proud to have you looking so smart and grown up.”

“Whaaaat?” Both the boys let out a cry, but their mother paid no attention.

“And as for you, young lady,” she turned to Kat. “If you cared about what your grandmother thought, you’d have had these rat’s tails cut off long ago.” She gave Kat’s hair a sharp tug, to make her point. “Neat and tidy and off your collar. If Annie can make the effort to fit in, I don’t see why you can’t.”

Kat flushed bright red, and her guilt leapt to another level. She was saved from any further embarrassment as Aunt Jane called for everyone to line up for the photos. As they did, Kat took the opportunity to take a proper look at everyone. The comment about not bothering to fit in had hit home, and as she looked, she realised that whatever she had been telling herself, making a big deal about trimming her nails and doing up a few extra buttons, she was far from fitting in.

It wasn’t a very large gathering, mostly family and a few long standing friends, but every other lady there was wearing a long, conservative dress, buttoned to the neck. They had modest heels, short nails and clean faces. Kat belatedly recognised that this was exactly what her Mum had been asking her to do, weeks before the party, insisting that everyone else would be following Grandma’s wishes, and dressing formally for the photos.

Kat had, of course, taken no notice, and had dismissed out of hand the idea that she might have her hair cut and curled, as Grandma had wanted. It was now clear though, that everybody else had made the effort. She was surrounded by women with immaculately styled hair, off their collars, neatly curled and gleaming with lacquer.

With her long mane, even if it was pulled pack, her just-long-enough skirt and half buttoned blouse, her heels and makeup, she looked like a stroppy teenager, unwilling to put her family above her vanity.

It was an uncomfortable realisation, and Kat struggled to force a smile for the photographs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Bye Gran. And, er, thanks for everything, it was, um, really nice.”

Kat had floundered through the rest of the party, trying to be as nice as she could to everyone, and had made it through to the end. She fiddled self consciously with the ends of her hair.

“I’m, er, sorry I didn’t dress up a bit more, you know, for the photos. I, er, I didn’t really think it was important, I suppose, at the time.” She started at the ground.

“Hmmm, well, that’s alright dear. It was just nice to have you here. Perhaps we’ll get you into a dress for my next birthday. Maybe even a grown up haircut, eh?” Gran gave a brittle laugh.

Kat smiled back, embarrassed. She felt desperately awkward, and just wanted to leave.

She spent the evening wondering whether she had done ‘enough’. She hadn’t thrown up, or had a massive row, or fallen down any stairs, but it was clear that her family, and especially her grandmother had expected more from her.

She settled back into bed that night, not knowing whether she would wake up on Saturday, or Sunday, and genuinely unsure which she wanted. Did she just want to be free of this endless ordeal? Or would she prefer one last chance, to do everything right, to make everyone proud of her?

 

Day 5

You walked in to the party, like you were walking onto a yacht

Kat opened her eyes, blearily. Was it Saturday again, or Sunday?

Your hat strategically dipped below one eye, your scarf it was apricot

That song again. So that must mean…

“Good morning, dear.” Her mum bustled in, knocking on the door as she did. “You haven’t forgotten that it’s Saturday, have you? Grandma’s party?”

“I remember, Mum.” Kat smiled at her.

“Good. So I was wondering if you’d changed your mind? About coming to the hairdressers with me?”

And all the girls dreamed that they’d be your partner, they’d be your partner

This was the moment. Kat took a deep breath.

“Actually, Mum, I have changed my mind. Do you think Betty will be able to fit me in?”

“What? Oh, er, yes, I’m sure she will.” Mum looked at Kat, stunned. “And thank you, dear.” She walked out, still not quite sure she’d heard her daughter correctly.

Kat felt a certain amount of relief. She’d realised that her previous attempts had been half-hearted at best. She was going to take the opportunity she had, reject her vanity, and try to fully embrace humility, for one day, at least, hoping that would be enough to break whatever cycle she was on. She really had had enough of that song.

You’re so vain….

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kat reached for her usual cleanser, then spotted the bar of imperial leather next to it. She smiled, and picked up the old-fashioned soap instead. The smell of the lather was surprisingly comforting.

A few minutes later, face scrubbed and shining, she once again set about her nails. They were, of course, back as they had been every other Saturday morning. This time, she really enjoyed the catharsis of cutting them ruthlessly short and cleaning the bright red polish off.

It briefly occurred to her that if, for whatever reason, her actions didn’t lead to an escape from this endless Saturday, at least her hair, like her nails, would be restored. That didn’t really bear thinking about, though. If this didn’t work, she was all out of ideas.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hello dear, were you after something?”

“Oh, er, I was, um, wondering if I could, er, borrow a dress, maybe?”

“Oh, of course, dear.” Heather tried not to let her surprise show too much. “What did you have in mind?”

“Well, what do you think Grandma would like to see me in?”

“Oh, well, Mother did want everyone in long dresses, so let’s try this one.” Heather pulled a pastel floral dress from her wardrobe and handed it to Kat.

Kat’s eyes widened. The dress was absolutely the kind of thing that her mother, or even her grandmother, would wear, but most nineteen year olds wouldn’t be caught dead in it. She remembered her resolve to swallow her pride, and slipped the dress on.

Her fingers fumbled slightly, doing up the buttons. It felt strange, being quite so covered up. The pleated skirt fell just a few inches above her ankles and the white lace collar was tight around her neck.

“You look wonderful, dear.” Heather’s smile was as broad as anything. “A pretty dress, and a well-scrubbed face. And thank you for cutting those nails, too. So much better. You look a perfect young lady. Well, you will do once we get that mop sorted out.”

Kat just smiled at her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, well, wonders will never cease.” Betty remarked drily as Kat nervously followed Heather into the small, shabby salon. “Let’s get you in the chair quick, missy, before you run away.” She laughed.

“So, what are we doing with her?” Betty asked, as she threw a faded cape over Kat.

The question was directed at Heather, but Kat spoke first.

“It’s time for all this to go.” She said firmly. “I need it neat and tidy and off my collar.”

Betty raised her eyebrows at Heather, who was looking, if anything, even more surprised. Neither of them were likely to let the opportunity pass, though. Without another word, Betty slipped her scissors into Kat’s hair level with her chin and chopped away. In less than a minute, two feet of tangled blonde hair lay on the scuffed linoleum.

Kat, eyes closed, felt the last lock fall, swallowed deeply and opened her eyes again. The girl looking back at her in the mirror was unfamiliar, with her pink scrubbed face emerging from the dingy cape and a few limp strands of hair stopping abruptly at her chin. She was certainly embracing humility, she thought, wryly. This had better work.

Betty didn’t wait for Kat’s approval, simply starting to lift sections of Kat’s hair with her comb and run her scissors across, reducing the once treasured locks to a uniform two inches. Her fringe was left until last, Betty snipping it neatly half way up her forehead.

“There you are.” She announced triumphantly. “One neat and tidy young lady. That hair certainly won’t be getting in your face any time soon.”

“Now, what do you think about giving her some curls, Heather? Make her look a bit more formal for the party?”

“Yes, that would be nice. Mother did want all the ladies to have their hair curled.” She turned to Kat.

“You’ll have your hair set this once, won’t you dear? I know it would mean a lot to Grandma if you did?”

Kat swallowed again. She’d come this far, she thought, why not go all the way?

“Actually,” she began, slowly. “I’d like to have it permed. Nice and tight. I think Gran would like that. What do you think?”

Heather’s eyes opened wider than ever, and she struggled to get her words out. Was this really her daughter? She was normally so fixated on her appearance, she wouldn’t leave the house unless her hair and makeup were perfect, with towering heels and her outfit leaving nothing to the imagination. But here she was, in Betty’s salon, face scrubbed and nails chopped, with the shortest haircut of her life, actually asking to have it permed. Heather wondered if she was dreaming.

“Oh, er, yes, dear.” She heard herself murmur. “That would be lovely.”

Betty took her cue, and bent Kat over the washbasin, giving her a quick but thorough shampoo. She sat her up again and grabbed a trolley covered in skinny plastic perm rods. She handed Kat a pack of end papers.

“Pass those up to me, one at a time.” She instructed.

She began to section and roll Kat’s hair, pulling each section firmly and tightly around the rod. Kat quickly got into the rhythm of passing the papers up to Betty and before she knew it, her head was covered in tight rolls of hair. Her grandmother had made her sit still to have curlers put in her hair a few times when she was much younger, but it hadn’t felt anything like this. It was uncomfortable, she decided, but not quite past the threshold of painful.

Betty wrapped a strip of cotton wool around Kat’s head, snipped the top from a bottle with a skinny nozzle, and deftly applied the foul-smelling solution to each rod.

“Right. This needs some heat on it, so we’ll pop you under the dryer.” She announced. Then we’ll make a start on your Mum.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kat watched curiously, unable to hear anything over the dryer noise, as Betty and her mother had a brief, but seemingly heated discussion. Eventually it seemed as though Heather gave up, shrugged, and sat down in the chair with a degree of resignation.

Betty gave her collar-length bob a quick spray down, and began attacking it vigorously with comb and scissors. Kat was fascinated as her mother’s hair was rapidly reduced to a uniform layered cut, still a fair bit longer than Kat’s, but as short as she’d ever seen it. Heather was then shampooed and handed the pack of end papers. Betty started to roll the hair up. Kat noticed that the rods were grey, where hers had been red, and they looked a bit bigger.

Soon Mum was covered in the lotion and they were briefly sat under adjacent dryers. They exchanged slightly sheepish smiles, both aware that they looked a bit daft.

Kat was promptly taken out and led to the sink again. Betty applied the freezing cold neutraliser, explaining that this was what finished the process, and made Kat a curly girl for good. That was allowed to sit for a few minutes before she was thoroughly rinsed and shampooed once again.

Then it was Mum’s turn. Kat was left with her curls wrapped in a towel as Betty brought Heather out.

“Now, I know that we’re going to finish you off with a nice formal set, but what about this one? Personally, I think she’s a bit young for such a mature style, and I think she’d look absolutely darling with just her tight little poodle do. Is that OK with you?”

“Oh, er, yes, I think I agree. A nice neat little head of curls will be perfect for her. No need to give her anything too fancy.”

“That’s settled then.”

Kat realised that she’d not been consulted, but she was happy to let the two older ladies have their way this time. She was popped back under the dryer, and watched as her Mum was neutralised, rinsed and rolled up again, in larger spiky pink rollers this time. She was doused in pale lilac setting lotion, and she and Kat swapped places under the dryers once more.

Kat’s dingy grey cape was replaced with a smaller, lacy affair. She didn’t really know why, but she supposed it was in keeping with such a traditional ladies’ salon. Betty took a wide-toothed comb to Kat’s tight curls and teased them into a neat and uniform rounded shape. She handed Kat a plastic face shield and covered her hair with a thick coat of old fashioned scented lacquer. Kat recognised the smell from whenever her grandmother had been to the hairdressers, and smiled.

“All done.” Betty beamed at her, whisked the cape off her, and held a mirror up behind her. Kat belatedly became aware of her reflection and gasped. She hardly recognised herself. A smile slowly appeared as it sank in that she really had achieved her objective. She really couldn’t imagine embracing humility any more thoroughly.

“Thank you, Betty, that looks perfect.” The smile Kat got in return told her that she’d made Betty’s day. She ushered Kat back to the waiting area, and went to check on Heather.

“I think you’re done, let’s get you combed out.”

The dryer was switched off and Heather was quickly back in the chair with the same lacy cape that Kat had been wrapped in. Betty whipped out the spiky rollers and started to vigorously tease Heather’s curls. Her hair was then sculpted straight back from her forehead into a series of stiff waves. It was much shorter, and more formal than the previous versions Kat had seen, which was presumably somehow down to Kat’s presence this time around.

Betty worked away happily until Heather’s hair was perfect, and then she, too, was covered in the heavy, perfumed lacquer.

“That should keep you looking your best for the party. You can’t beat a proper shampoo and set for a formal occasion.”

“Mmm, yes, I suppose it does look very smart. Thank you Betty, I’m sure that Mother will appreciate it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You look really lovely with your hair like that, Mum. Were you, er, planning to have it permed?”

“Erm, well, no, not really.” Heather looked a little embarrassed. “Betty told me that I couldn’t let myself be outdone by my daughter, so I should go properly curly too.”

Kat raised her eyebrows. “Well, it does suit you, and I’m sure that Grandma will be impressed. With both of us, probably!” She giggled, as what she had done in Betty’s suddenly hit home.

“Yes,” agreed her mother, distractedly. “I think it’s safe to say that she won’t be expecting us quite like this.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I’m pleased you’re wearing that dress I bought you, Heather, and it’s nice to see you with a proper hairstyle for once. Much better than having it hanging in your face.” Constance smiled tightly at her daughter.

“Happy Birthday, Mother.” Heather smiled back. “You’ll be pleased to know that I’ve had it permed, then. So it’ll be staying curly for a while.”

“Well, not before time, either. Your sisters both had theirs done years ago.” Heather was well used to her mother’s criticism, but this time she merely smiled, sure that in just a moment, Constance would for once, be stunned into silence.

“Happy Birthday, Grandma!” Kat peered around from behind her mother.

Constance’s face worked its way through a series of expressions as she tried to grasp what she was seeing. Eventually, she found her voice.

“Katherine? I, er. Well. I hardly recognised you.”

Kat gave a quick twirl, allowing her pleated dress to billow out, and showing off the tightly cropped curls at the back of her head. “Do you like my hair? I had it done specially for the party.”

“It’s, um, yes, you look very nice dear.” Constance still couldn’t quite take in the transformation that had been performed to her previously glamour-obsessed granddaughter.

Kat beamed at her and skipped away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Annie! Your hair looks lovely, it really suits you. When did you have it done?”

“Oh, er, thank you.” Annie replied as she turned, before stopping dead. “Er, Kat? Is that you? You, um. Oh, sorry.” Annie was clearly flustered.

“Don’t worry, most people don’t recognise me at all.” Kat laughed. “Don’t you think we look like twins now? Both of us with neat little perms?”

“Oh, er, yes, I suppose we do.” Annie paused for a moment. “It’s such a big change for you, Kat, what brought it on, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Well, I suppose it was partly for Grandma’s benefit, she and Mum have both been on at me to smarten up for today. I expect you had the same?”

Annie nodded. “Yeah, I guess. And the rest…?”

“Well,” Kat blushed slightly. “I supposed it was for me. Let’s just say that, uh, recent events have made me realise that I’ve been much too vain, and I thought that I could perhaps do with a bit more humility.”

“Wow! Well, I’m very impressed. That’s a pretty big step to take, Kat.”

“Thank you.” She blushed a shade darker. “That’s another thing, by the way. I don’t think that ‘Kat’ quite fits any more.”

“Oh, Ok. So is it ‘Katherine’ then?”

“Hmmm, no, I don’t think so. Perhaps ‘Kathy’ would be nice. What do you think?”

“Perfect! You do look more like a Kathy now.”

Kathy beamed at her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What a wonderful day.” Heather sighed contentedly as they pulled onto the drive. “I really don’t think it could have gone any better.”

“Mmm, well, I certainly hope you’re right.” Kathy was already thinking about the next morning.

“Sorry dear?”

“Oh, er, I was just agreeing with you.”

“Makes a change.” Heather smiled at her daughter. “But I suppose there have been quite a few of those for you, today.”

“Mmmm, just a few.”

“Thank you, dear. I know it wasn’t all for me, but it really is lovely seeing you looking so smart.”

“That’s OK Mum. It was just nice to feel like I was fitting in with the family, for once.

As Kathy climbed into bed that evening, she felt better than she had for a long time. Whatever day it was when she woke up tomorrow, she knew that she’d done everything she could to make this day right.

 

Day 6

Know it sounds funny but I just can’t stand the pain. Girl, I’m leaving you tomorrow

Kathy’s eyes snapped open, wide awake. Different song on the radio. Did that mean… ?

Seems to me girl, you know I’ve done all I can, you see I begged, stole and I borrowed, yeah

She nervously reached a hand up to her head, not feeling for a bump this time, but wondering whether she would find her long, straight hair or a head of tightly permed curls.

It was curls. She was finally free of her never ending Saturday. She smiled.

Ooh, that’s why I’m easy, I’m easy like Sunday morning.

 

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