Some women want the world to always see them at their best. They do not post a single image of themselves unless they are dressed to the nines with hair and make-up perfectly done. I admire that kind of dedication to your appearance.
I, on the other hand, delight in posting pictures of my “I just got out of bed,” hair. For some reason I think it’s absolutely hilarious when my hair arranges itself in bizarre configurations. When it’s especially entertaining, I can’t help but share my ‘do on social media.
I’m not real sure what this says about me. I know the fact that I’m a 12-year old boy deep down, but I don’t know many 12-year olds who post this kind of photo. Is it perchance because at almost 60 I care even less what people think of me than your average 12-year old?
It may be because I tend to rebel against what I am told I should do. My lack of interest in conforming to societal norms was an ongoing source of confusion and frustration for my poor mother. Mom was a woman who had a deep seated fear of “getting in trouble” so raising a daughter who really didn’t care what people thought was a huge challenge for her.
It may have something to do with the fact that I will wear what I am comfortable in 99% of the time. I know how to dress up and I love a sassy pair of shoes, but I have never paid much attention to what the fashion magazines tell me to wear. In the 70’s when everyone else was still wearing bell bottom blue jeans, I bought a pair of straight legged jeans at Kmart and paired them with a pair of hand-me-down hunting boots. I wore that combination to school most of my senior year in high school. That look eventually came into style, but by that time I had moved forward.
I know that part of the reason is because I have never been the type of woman who spends a lot of time on her hair. I have spent my whole life insisting that if I can’t wash my hair, fluff it with a towel and then go, I’m not interested. I imagine if I spent a lot of time getting my hair to look just right it would be frustrating to see it taking on a life of its own.
It might be because I have learned not to let my hair frustrate me and I just give in to letting it do whatever it does. The top part of my hair tends to be curly and the bottom half tends to be straight. As the years have gone by and my hormones have shifted which half dominates has gone back and forth any number of times. Basically, if I want curly hair, it goes straight; if I want straight hair, it goes curly. Because of this history, it doesn’t surprise me that much when I wake up and my hair is sticking straight up from my head.
Whatever the reason, it’s nice to sometimes take a respite from all of the serious issues that are plaguing our country and write about silly things. I can think of nothing sillier than my unruly hair that has a mind of its own!