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Dianna G#8 Stupid Thing I've done for Beauty's sake
June 28th 2007 17:12
#8 Snip those stray hairs away!
Ok, this little beauty faux pas was, thankfully, done when I was at a tender age of 11. You’re probably wondering why I hadn’t learnt from this mistake of concocting my own beauty tips through my teen years but then I wouldn’t have anything to write about on this post, will I?
While every other girl in my year had their hair in a plain, boring ponytail or wore one of those frilly headbands that were designed to make you look like a fairy princess but ended up making you look like a creative bird had just made a massive poop on your head, my own hair was swept back in graceful, interwoven strands – aka, a braid.
In a world of ponytails and bird poops, I got a lot of compliments on my braid. Having just arrived in Australia and with my limited understanding of English, I was still able to deduce that 1) they really liked my braid 2) they wanted to know who did my braid 3) they wanted to know how long it took to do my braid and 4) when I would stop merely nodding and smiling and answer their questions about the braid already.
To answer these questions belatedly, it was my older sister who did my braid which took her only ten minutes to do and which she could only do on Monday mornings. And when you only have one friend in the world who also couldn’t speak English and also couldn’t speak your own native tongue and the only way to display your friendship was through a series of nods, smiles and grunts, you’d want to keep these compliments coming.
So, on a quest to gain more English-speaking friends, I decided to retain my braid for one whole week. How, you ask? Simple. 1) I didn’t wash my hair for the week. 2) I slept with the braid. 3) When stray hairs would weave their way out as they’re wont to do when I woke up in the morning, I would take out the scissors and cut the stray hairs away, leaving the braid, you guessed it, intact. And when the stray hairs bunched up into thick strands or knots, I would snip them away too. By the end of the week, when I finally pulled that elastic band out and framed the remnants of my hair around my face, I looked like an 80s rocker with layers upon tufts upon layers of hair. Which made me consider going bald – for only a second.
*image taken from www.wikipedia.com
What beautiful braid you have...
Ok, this little beauty faux pas was, thankfully, done when I was at a tender age of 11. You’re probably wondering why I hadn’t learnt from this mistake of concocting my own beauty tips through my teen years but then I wouldn’t have anything to write about on this post, will I?
While every other girl in my year had their hair in a plain, boring ponytail or wore one of those frilly headbands that were designed to make you look like a fairy princess but ended up making you look like a creative bird had just made a massive poop on your head, my own hair was swept back in graceful, interwoven strands – aka, a braid.
In a world of ponytails and bird poops, I got a lot of compliments on my braid. Having just arrived in Australia and with my limited understanding of English, I was still able to deduce that 1) they really liked my braid 2) they wanted to know who did my braid 3) they wanted to know how long it took to do my braid and 4) when I would stop merely nodding and smiling and answer their questions about the braid already.
To answer these questions belatedly, it was my older sister who did my braid which took her only ten minutes to do and which she could only do on Monday mornings. And when you only have one friend in the world who also couldn’t speak English and also couldn’t speak your own native tongue and the only way to display your friendship was through a series of nods, smiles and grunts, you’d want to keep these compliments coming.
So, on a quest to gain more English-speaking friends, I decided to retain my braid for one whole week. How, you ask? Simple. 1) I didn’t wash my hair for the week. 2) I slept with the braid. 3) When stray hairs would weave their way out as they’re wont to do when I woke up in the morning, I would take out the scissors and cut the stray hairs away, leaving the braid, you guessed it, intact. And when the stray hairs bunched up into thick strands or knots, I would snip them away too. By the end of the week, when I finally pulled that elastic band out and framed the remnants of my hair around my face, I looked like an 80s rocker with layers upon tufts upon layers of hair. Which made me consider going bald – for only a second.
*image taken from www.wikipedia.com
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