We’ve all had them, complained about them, cried over them, thrown tantrums on them, and let them affect our self-esteem.
Now let's talk about them. Share your bad hair day stories here.
Oh hi. Remember blogging?
3 years ago
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Hmmmm. I remember it well. It was the summer of 1987 and I was a park ranger at Rocky Mountain National Park, Estes Park, Colorado. You got it, Smoky the Bear suit and all.
Would not have been such a big deal except for the fact that I am city born and bred and BLACK; the only black person for miles. The significance? Where I am from, little black girls went to the hair salon every other week at a minimum. So at 22, I was ill-prepared to be living in an environment with no ethnic hair salons.
After a long night of partying, I hopped out of bed, jumped in my uniform and just stuck my hair into my hat. All was well until I was running between kiosks and slipped. Hat off, hair standing up like Buckwheat!!! A treat for my coworkers and a huge embarassment for me. Would I now be stereotyped? Had I set my race back 50 years? Of course not, self-inflicted drama.
The good of it all is that my coworkers who were also my roommates took great interest in the difference between black and caucasion hair and they worked with me to learn how to relax my hair in the absence of a salon.
The glass is always half-full and a bad hair day can translate into a good humor day.
Jeannie, I love this story! Thanks for the smile.
i have an image in my mind of a smokey the bear with buckwheat hair. i am glad you changed careers and all that is behind you. it does make a funny story. thanks for the laugh.
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