Let’s talk about hair. Sometimes I think that my life can be best understood by examining the evolution of my hairstyles. The first ten years of my life were defined by that friend of all little girls with big hair, the pony tale. There was that ill-fated evening that I tried to curl my hair with a comb, resulting in my father cutting it out and the next two years were spent growing out the subsequent emergency bangs. Then there was the self-inflicted semi-mullet, the experimentation with lemon juice to get highlights (epic fail, and it attracts bees), the big blow dry, and finally, the period of the crunchy gel scrunch. During college I allowed myself to spend 4 glorious self-indulging years where I did the wash and toss method that college students like to pretend is socially acceptable. This meant that my hair froze as I walked to class through Michigan winter, and the result was mangy, but acceptable in a world where you stay up to ungodly hours and live off of Fritos, stolen cafeteria cookies, and caffeinated beverages. And then came the infamous Senior Year Shear, where you have a minor freak out about entering the world of adulthood and thus you cut off all of your hair. I spent my year in France with a Molly Ringwald-esque shaggy bob, which worked in Paris where people just throw around their messy hair and let the metro draft style it as the walk up stairs.
But then I returned to the Kentucky, to the blessed south, to my hair roots where the key is one word: big. Despite those many years of flirting around with the idea of Hair Free Will, in the south it is all Hair Predestination. Due to my upbringing, I was fated to return to The Curlers. My mother has had the same hairstyle for my entire life, and earlier photos hint that it began long before. She puts the curlers in, finishes getting ready, and then removes them to finish her Do with the most important beauty item ever, hairspray. Beauty commandment #1, “Though shalt not be stingy with thine hairspray.” Thus, when I moved back to Lexington this past year, I dusted off my set of curlers and entered that sacred society of Women With Big Hair. I have never looked back.
However, with passion for southern hair comes the great dilemma: what do you do when you can’t plug in the curlers? How do you have Big Southern Hair when you are camping??? (I stress about this more than is necessary, considering the last time I camped was in 7th grade.) How do you have BSH when you are in France and haven’t a European voltage appropriate set of curlers? These are the burdens pressing upon my soul.
But alas, I have a solution. I found this video via pinterest and it instructs on how to get amazing big southern curls without heat. In fact, you use nothing more than an elastic rubber brand and any products you want. It has become my new thing. I used it frequently while in France and I can now camp in southern style. In fact, I actually put my hair up in the headband in the Chicago airport, flew with it up to France, and pulled off the headband while in the customs line to have perfect curls upon arrival. Yes I was silently judged by others in the plane for my Heidi look. But while they had bed head going through customs, I had Taylor Swift curls.
Last week I spent the night with friends and we all put our hair up. My hair is fairly curly and thick, Rachel’s is straight and very thick, and Megan’s is fine and short, but it worked for all three of us. Here you see our ridiculous looking hair up before going to bed.Here is how it looked after sleeping on it and taking off the headband. If you try this, make sure your hair is totally dry when you start or it will not set. I also sprayed mine generously with gel before wrapping it around the head band, again once it was set, and then with hairspray after I took off the headband. I also recommend vigorously shaking your head when you take it down to loosen the curls a little. I never brush mine out like the girl in the video recommends.