A few months after my son was born, I desperately needed some “me” time. One glance in the mirror confirmed that I needed something, and I figured the best thing to do would be to go take care of my hair – which hadn’t been washed in days.
I left Alex with my parents and went off to get my hair done. There’s nothing like a fresh haircut to make you feel better about yourself, so I got in the car, happily anticipating the compliments I would get from Michael when he came home from work and ran his fingers through my soon-to-be-sleek-and-silky hair.
Blame it on the sleep deprivation or the out-of-whack hormones but I decided to get a perm.
When I left the salon hours later, it was with a slight spring in my step – and a lot of spring in my hair.
I was excited to get back to my baby, who I hadn’t been away from this long since he was born. When I opened the door to my parents’ house, he was perched up on the couch, between my mom and dad. He took one look at me, opened his eyes wide and burst out laughing.
I burst out crying.
This was the first time Alex had laughed! But the little devil was laughing at me! My emotions were all over the place. My son thought I was a clown! But I was witnessing a milestone! What had I done?! My baby was growing up! Was I happy or sad?
I could see my parents trying, unsuccessfully, to hold back their own smiles – partly at my hair but mostly at Alex’s reaction to it.
Anyone who’s ever had a perm knows how looooong it takes to grow out. I was hating on my hair for most of Alex’s first year (although, to be honest, deep down I’m sort of proud he will always associate me with the first moment that made him laugh so joyously).
Alex is 23 now and, other than that year of living with Curly, he has only known me with straight hair — and the occasional frizz. By the time my daughter was born two and a half years later, my hair was the last thing on anyone’s mind. And, for the record, I can make both of my kids laugh even without a perm.
I’m sharing my pictures as a public service, and hope readers will take this as a cautionary tale. The lesson to be learned is clear: never mess with your hair during a hormonally-challenging time. Unfortunately, for many women, this is most of our lives.
For me, this topic couldn’t have come at a more timely moment. My perimenopausal hormones are raging, and I’m due for a haircut …
I learned early on that some girls should never have curls unless they come from hot curlers. On another note, once my raven haired mother came home with her hair frosted. I took one look and cried. She got rid of the frost the next day!
Hey, I think you rocked the perm! Looks great!
I wrote about perms too! Too bad I had no perspective and kept doing it for over a DECADE! LOL! -Laura Lee
I have very curly hair so straightening was my nemesis. I used products that were used by African Americans to straighten their hair. I lost a lot of hair this way. I have tried the Yuko method and from time to time very short bleached hair with roots showing and then today add lots of color tomy hair for fun. The one good thing is it always grows out. I now love just having curly hair.Great photo and story Lois. Brings me back to all my different styles. At least we experiment rather than wearing the same style forever.
While yall were perming your hair, I was sleeping with orange juice cans in my hair..and ironing it, trying to tame those wild curls.
I too, wrote about my awful late 80’s perm. What the heck were we thinking???
I think we all regret the 80’s perms, but, honestly, your hair was beautiful despite the perm.
Hilarious, but cute. Perm stories. Yikes. Have a few of my own which is making this Monday morning without one better! Thanks for sharing. (The perm could not overpower that smile of yours.) 🙂
Let me think… That was between 1980 and 1990? I’m guilty of perming too but hey, it was the 80’s and big hair was in, so…
Still, like you, my worst fashion mistake(s) all center around hair. like the time I decided to try black hennah dye. Or the time I let my hairdresser convince me (a dark brunette) to get some very blond streaks, just around my face.
Bad. Just. Bad.
Love this Lois! I think you look great, with sleek or curly hair! When I was 17 I had long, wavy golden brown hair and I thought I would rock the long haired curly perm. My hair took too well and my golden brown long locks turned bright orange and broke off. I came home looking like Little Orphan Annie, but convinced by the stylist that I looked mature, hip and beautiful. As soon as my Mom saw me she cried, “What did they do to your hair?!” My confidence turned to tears. It took about a year before I looked like myself in the mirror again.
Lois, this made me LOL! What a great story about your son, even though at the time it probably didn’t seem so funny to you. Love this.
As my beloved hairdresser once told me, “Friends don’t let friends get perms.” That said, I like yours a heckuva lot better than the one I got in the late 1970s!
Thanks for a good laugh!
Karen
I guess I’m part of the club. I also permed my hair in the 80’s, spending years looking like a poodle. I never liked it the first MONTH but I liked it when it relaxed and developed into soft curls. When I look back at pictures the combination of the big hair and the awful floral printed dresses and skirts I was wearing leave me wondering what was I thinking?? Thank goodnes my photo albums from that era are in storage!!
Ah, the 80’s. My hair was already curly so I had it chemically straightened back then. I really wanted Farrah hair but could never achieve that look. Great post!
Yeah, I had an ’80s perm, too. Awful. But my worst salon experience was when I decided to get my hair colored for the first time ever…in my early 40s. I was going for a honey blonde, but got…orange. Straight out orange. Luckily, my sister told me that my hair would NOT all fall out if I ran out and got some store-bought dye to cover up the monstrosity that was my head. And so I did. The end. 😉
OK, I am jumping on the perm bandwagon. But it put more like a frizz rather than a spring in my step. I didn’t write about it, though.
I have naturally curly hair. So, of course, my worst hair stories are all about trying to make it straight. Sigh. If only we could all learn early on that our best hair style is what our hair is best at doing.
Good advice. Really should be a Public Service announcement!
I actually love the perm on you — but I know what you mean. When my preschool daughter saw me the morning after I died my blonde hair black, she screamed. black hair can only be rocked by women who are born with it, I think. Really enjoyed this – thank you!
I got a perm in 1982 as preparation for living / studying in Jerusalem for 6 months. I thought that it would make styling easier “on the go.” Now I look back at those pictures and wonder, “Did I have a cousin who gave me her photo album?” I guess it was my way of dealing with the anxiety of studying overseas. That’s a great “out of the mouths of babes” story.
Ok that was soooo cute and the fact that it was the first time your son laughed! I had a perm too, I think the eighties were the perm decade!
I like the hair!
It looks good on you!
(I admit, my little boys were amused when I came home with orange stripes… my entire head wasn’t orange… but those damn stripes lasted months…)
I didn’t need a perm, I looked like that naturally, only the curls were magnified by a 1000! I would have given anything to have smooth hair. Preferably blond! So funny, we always want what we don’t have. Cute photos!
I seriously think hairstylists were out to get us women in the 80’s. So many of us have suffered…sigh…
Love this, Lois! Oh the grass is always greener, isn’t it? All my life I’ve longed for sleek, straight hair. These perm horror stories really do touch a nerve with me: I actually thought a perm for my naturally curly hair would be a GOOD idea. You know, give it some control and discipline. Hah! I also love that you elicited your baby’s first laugh. That’s priceless, and worth the cost of an entire day at the salon.
I never got a perm; but actually I got the look of a perm when my hair grew back after chemotherapy in tight little curls. Lucky for me it’s long gone—I love how you associate the perm with your son’s laugh–what could be better?