My Hair: My Story

This is what I came with. Black curly hair. Indians don't believe curly hair is 'good', so my curls where brushed into submission regularly by my uncurly haired mother.
This is how I would spend the next few years of life. Looking like a Golden Girl.

                       In the coming years I received haircuts at home by my mother, a woman of zero hairdressing knowledge. I rocked versions of the very hip Dorthy Hamill like the one seen here with my sister before the recital. 

Once I had access to drugstores and no supervision, I found the World of Hair Color in the form of Nice 'n' Easy and other OTC brands, and around 15 I began the journey of Unnatural Hair Colors. Pink, purple, green, you name it. 

In 1997 I got a pixie cut. It was the 90's. Enough said. My hair was passed my shoulders when I went in. The stylist was so nervous I thought she was going to bail on me mid cut. 

 I changed my color often. Once I bleached my whole head just to see. I wish I had a photo. I was sent home from work that day and when my mother saw me, she simply said "get it fixed". I exited a salon much after closing that night with bright red hair that I loved.  I still looked completely ridiculous.


The years proceeding was my Red Phase. I surprisingly don't have photo evidence of this.I kept fire engine red in my hair for 7 years, either in streaks or whole sections of hair.

After college, I cut my then long hair and found a stylist who agreed to put white in. I came out with a Rogue from X-men-esque streak in my black bob that I was completely in LOVE with. 

The process was intense and after a touch up, my hair started to break off and I knew I couldn't keep it forever. There was a brief mourning period.


The end of 2005 was the first time I had natural since 1993. People didn't know what to do with me. My friends were appalled.

In 2006, I thought bangs would be a great idea. I was wrong. So wrong.  Stylists should be allowed to hold Pop Interventions for curly haired girls who ask for bangs. It would be a true public service.

I came home with the worst haircut of my life.  I never went back there. This photo is after some serious growing out time.

After all these things it's a miracle I have any hair left, so I decided that I should share it. Also, I truly love an extreme makeover! In November of 2009, I donated16 inches of hair to Locks Of Love

Once again with short hair, I went through a series of bobs. I really love my hair short. It makes me feel sassy (yeah I said it). 

 I've been growing my hair for another round of donations and I've given my hairdresser strict instructions to never let me have bangs again. This is my hair now, color free for the last 7 years.... until teal hair happened recently. It will be at least two years before I'll be able to donate my hair. Assuming I don't do anything else to it, but I can't really promise anything. 

I long to be an old lady with a full bob of shiny white hair, but I know that will never happen given what my grandmother looks like  If I ever have the opportunity to afford great wigs, I will grab it and never look back! So until the want for buying fake hair outweighs the need to buy fake hair...my saga will continue.