If I grew up with you or went to college with you you probably think of two things to describe me. Loud. Followed by curls. Or curls followed by loud. Even if loud is not one of your two, chances are curls is.
I have spent my entire life fighting my curls. F-I-G-H-T. With gusto. With tenacity. To the death. And much of that was done in the nice, humid world of Houston, TX.
My senior year in college I started to chemically straighten my hair- which ruined it. Then I became the worlds best Chi-er. I can do things with a flat iron that are out of this world. So if you met me post college you probably don’t think of me with curly hair. Not even RT does. I just fought it.
Then, I had Gia.
Then, I had Luke.
So here is the crazy part. My hair is still curly. Like super duper curly. I can put gel in it, scrunch it like the dickens and viola- curls. BUT, then it just falls. Not all of it. Just pieces. Random ones all over my head. So I become a disheveled mess.
For five (and a half) years I have been diligently flat ironing my hair. Every. Damn. Day. And frankly, I am tired. I don’t color my hair because it can’t take the heat AND color. (Plus, I think I may just go all grey. I kind of think it says, “Yo- I am kick but confident. Don’t mess with me.”)
So today, I tried to go curly. And this is what I got. Thoughts? Helpful hints? Because I think it kind of looks like a bad mid nineties ‘do.