I have really, seriously got to get over my obsession with punch-colored hair.
I see a girl with hair the color of Grape and I desperately want to be the kind of person who could rock that.
I'm too freaking old to turn my hair into shiny, glossy, awesome strands of purple. Or orange, I could do orange. But no! That's the problem, I can't do orange! I'm the mother of two daughters who would never stop laughing at me. I couldn't go to a parent-teacher conference and talk solemnly about math and social studies with Grape hair.
On the other hand, I'm 99% sure it would keep other parents from trying to make small talk with me in the hall while I waited for my parent-teacher conference.
That's appealing.
I don't like other mothers of fourth-graders. With very, very few exceptions, they are a bunch of old married women who think their husbands are retarded and that swapping canned tuna recipes is a good time. They all smile a little too wide and chat in a voice that's too high-pitched to be authentic.
The worst part is, I turn into them when they talk to me. Because I don't have any other defense. I can't really say, "Are you serious? You actually give a shit about PTA politics?"
I'm taking Matilda to a school-sponsored skating party tonight where I'm going to rock my mental purple hair and knit a lot, which hopefully will make me seem odd and unapproachable.
4 comments:
please! get your hair colored punch colors!!!
don't let age or mommy status stop you!
just look at patricia fields.....
:)
a-go-go
What's holding you back? I told you the other night I'm all for it. If I have to ply you with the music needed to tip you over the edge, I will.
Besides, the PTA moms are all freaked out over me anyway. You should see how they react when a DAD shows up. Totally throws them off.
Might I also add that the women you're speaking of don't even know what their natural hair color is. They've been streaked, tipped, dyed and fried to the point of being able to tap their hair on a table and watch it shatter.
Ergo, grape hair would not only make a statement about you, it would also make a statement about them and their fragile reality.
I've been spending too much time with the Brownie moms, methinks. I'm getting bitter.
If you want grape hair, get grape hair! Who cares what other people think? I went white-blonde in my early 40s (wait...I'm still in my early 40s) and the neighbors first thought I was the Spouse Thingy's new Hoochie Mama. You might feel funny for a day or so, then you'll feel empowered. And if people stare you screw up your face and say "What? I was born this way..."
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