Kendrick thinks that what happens to my hair in the presence of humidity is really funny.
So much so that he had me pose for a photo while pretending that I was in a 1980s Mentos ad.
It’s true: I turn into a lioness in the presence of even a single atom of moisture; always have. In years past, the fluffball on top of my head has made me nuts; nowadays…less so. And this is partially because I really do try to keep my hair in good condition these days (because healthy hair = less frizzy hair), but also because of motherhood.
And not for the reason (“Oh, I just don’t care about my hair as much…”) you might think. Still care. Still want it to look nice and relatively non-insane.
The reason is this:
I no longer see my crazy waves as “crazy”; I see them as just another toy in the toybox.
Here’s the thing: when I found out I was pregnant for the first time, I wasn’t particularly looking forward to the physical changes that I knew were on the way. I wasn’t upset about them, but I didn’t really know what to expect, and certainly didn’t expect to enjoy figuring out how to, say, get my new shape dressed for something like a meeting or a cocktail party or a black-tie wedding. I figured I’d just sort of muddle my way through and get back to being “me” again once I was done.
Except what I discovered over the subsequent months was that the changes that my body went through not only weren’t something to just “muddle through”…they were so much fun. I’m serious. It was like having a whole new set of toys to play with; I loved trying out totally different looks and shapes and fabrics and styles than I’d typically wear in my “real life.”
Once I had my son, that attitude – that desire to play around with style and to step outside the box of what I had decided from years of practice was “my look” – stayed with me to some extent…and now that we’re onto Number Two, it’s back in full force. Lately, with everything beauty- and fashion-related, I just feel so…experimental. Open to testing all sorts of different waters. Free.
And so yesterday evening, rather than trying to wrestle my fuzzy mane into submission or tying it into a bun like a typically do, I decided: what the hell. Let’s have fun with it.
And so I broke out a comb and teased it and teased it and teased it…
And fluffed it and fluffed it and fluffed it…
And tied on a silk scarf because why not…
And ended up with this.
I looked maybe a little (or maybe a lot) ridiculous, and looked a little (or maybe a lot) not exactly like “myself”, and I loved it.
I mostly loved that of all the lessons that motherhood has taught me, one of the ones that’s made the biggest impact has been that playtime is whatever is fun for you, and no matter how old you are or how many responsibilities you have…it’s important. And it shouldn’t be reserved for special occasions, or be about trying to create something “perfect” or even necessarily “beautiful”.
You can find your fun wherever and whenever you like, even if it’s just with a few seconds spent in the company of a bunch of bobby pins and a comb, and even if the end result is nothing of greater significance than some big, fuzzy hair.
Pictured: Jonathan Adler silk scarf; Melinda Maria square turquoise earrings and turquoise necklace c/o; Nashelle dangle earrings.
