So I sprayed my hair with a light bit of spray. I hate hair spray in general. In fact, I hate putting products that hold style in my hair. They always make my hair crunchy, feel dirty or make my clean hair only last a day or two. This is probably the reason for my incredibly fast hair fail.
I sprayed, I rolled, I waited, I removed the curlers, I sprayed again. Then I let the curls cool entirely, shook my head and thought, "don't hate me because I'm beautiful," and walked outside, where the light was decent, to show you what I managed to create.
Keep in mind, I don't have a hyper-layered 80's haircut. So I was not going for a specific style from Dallas, but just a big, bouncy, over the top volume kind of vibe.
I was so proud.
Look! It's so big, it's like a bob. You can't see all of the big, loopy, silly waves, but they are there in droves! Ewing family, look out! I'll take your oil, your jewels and your helicopter by lunch with this hair! Photo taken at 8:29:01, according to the file information on the camera.
Still trying to capture a decent shot, but not yet mastering the theory of "headroom", my bob is now plentiful waves that cascade on to my shoulders. More Charlene Tilton than Victoria Principal, my place in the Ewing Family is sliding downwards rapidly. Photo taken at 8:29:18.
Huh. My style is quickly plummeting. Wispy waves are now dancing around my collarbone. Where did the body go? It's only 8:30:36 am. One minute and 35 seconds after my hair was perfect and I was ready to tackle cattle ranchers and oil barons, I'm more suited to be the cool brunette sister on Too Close For Comfort. She wanted to be a bank teller AND a designer (as if that goes together!) and she practically lived with her parents. She didn't even know Monroe was gay! Her style isn't working for the oil drilling, cattle-driving day I had in mind.
By 8:31:13, my hair is devoid of wave and almost all body is gone. Now I'm more like Mindy from Mork and Mindy, who would not have the foggiest idea of how to deal with cattle ranching and all it entails. What did she do? Run a kite shop with an egg in the attic? I can't remember (but I think kites were involved with something). Either way, she and her hair are NOT cattle ranching material.
By lunch, for fun, I took this picture. I'm back to being my normal Liz Lemon-y kind of self, still without having mastered the art of "headroom" in a photo.
Two minutes and twelve seconds is all it took for my hair to span three decades and return me to looking like a normal person who might get eaten by house cats if she died alone. It's not terrible, but I'll certainly never dominate in the Ewing family like this.
What products are best for achieving volume and hold, without feeling all gloppy and heavy? Help me out! And if it helps me make my way in the oil business some day, I'll buy you all of the hair product you ever wanted.*
*I will never be able to dominate in a fictitious family. So my offer is a bit of a lie. But still, your opinions mean the world to me, so please share.
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