Hair-don'ts

I'm having a bad hair day. Well, to be honest, a bad hair week. I don't know, maybe it's the humidity, or it's time for a hair cut, or I need to switch shampoos. In any case, it bums me out.

That is, until I remembered some quality hair moments from my junior high and early high school days and realized that a bad hair week cannot compare to these 'dos.


Here I am modeling my own designs at the 4-H county fair in Omaha. 7th grade, I believe. Yes, I did make the shirt. And the shorts. See how my carefully folded-down socks and earrings match perfectly?

This shot was taken in Nashville while visiting my aunt and uncle and cousins. I LOVED that hat. I cannot even begin to explain how much I loved that hat. The sunglasses, I believe, were a promotional item from a gas station. And finally, it really is a shame that you can't see the full outfit because I finished this classy ensemble with a pair of pig boxer shorts. It was oh-so-carefully planned. See how happy I am?

Ah, yes. Here I am preparing to go to Homecoming my freshman year. Freshly sunburned from a marching band competition earlier that day, I went with the motto "Bigger is better." It was 1991, though, so I was not alone. Loyal readers of this blog might catch the irony in my choice of puffed sleeves.

Here it is: the pièce de résistance of my bad hair-do Hall of Fame. Okay, people -- here's the worst part. This hair-do is not a fluke. I would carefully construct these gravity-defying 'dos each and every single day. On purpose. Because I thought it looked good.

There, now I don't feel so bad.