November 4th, 2012

Rainbow || Rainbow northern lights.

(no subject)

Today I did something I haven't done in years: I let my hair just do what it wanted.

Now, I come from a Family of Frizz. I have nightmares of frizz, of waking up to find myself quickly growing frizzier until I am a frizzmonster out to envelope the whole world in the static strands of my frizz! It's terrible.

Usually, if I leave my hair to do what it wishes, it heads in that direction. I reign it in with my Plait of Power, which I use immediately after a shower (or any event of Getting Wet) to bend my hair to my will. It must then stay that way until it is Completely Dry before I let it out to play--and even then not for long and with great care, because as soon as the strands start getting adventurous I quickly head toward The Nightmarish Frizz Monster.

I shall share a picture of a very good hair-day from back in the days when my hair ran free:

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But today I did not utilise the Plait of Power. Instead, I did my detangling in the shower and "scrunched", as it is apparently called: instead of fingering products through my hair, I scrunched it all up toward my head to work with the curl instead of flattening it down. I just used a bit of conditioner and almond oil because I am cheap and am not going to buy any other sort of product unless I am close to positive that it will work with my mop of mane.

Then I did something even sillier: I "plopped" (curly-girls have such odd terms, it's great). Used a long-sleeved shirt on my chair, bent over, put my curls down on the shirt, wrapped it over my head and tied it so my hair started drying in its curled form near my head. I had less than an hour for it to stay this way and I have a lot of hair so I knew it wouldn't dry my hair all that much, but would still have something of an effect.

This was also the point my mother walked in on me and started laughing her eyes out because mothers seem to have this innate alarm as to when their children (daughters especially) are doing something embarrassing. The cheek of that woman, to laugh so heartily at my attempts to cure myself of the genetics I got from her line that haunt me so terribly. Wench!

So I scrunched and I plopped and I pulled the curls down. I did frizz throughout the evening, as I expected to as it dried, but in the end...not so horrible. I didn't end the world in a frightening fritz of frizz. After the coffee house, I even had my mother take pictures.

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So there we have my experiment. It's funny how much I love hair with volume on others and yet tend to fear it for my own hair. Perhaps because I'm still not used to it; during most of the childhood I can actually remember I had long hair that was mostly straight with the hint of waves. I only noticed the real volume when I was 16 and as soon as I could get it back in a ponytail and plait again I started doing that to hide away from the volume again. Now I'm on a mission to embrace the volume and curls, especially if I can find a product that actually does work wonders for frizz. The next part of my experiment occurs tomorrow, when I see what Day 2 hair looks like (it's in a loose plait at the moment so I can sleep without tangling or strangling myself). My next experiment will be plopping over-night, to see if there's less frizz when it does more drying inside solitary confinement.

This is probably way more than you ever wanted to know about hair, but I also know it's an insider's POV for Long Hair that isn't all that common, so I thought I'd include it.

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I also spent hours working on a lesson plan ("Nurturing the Spirit") for Religious Exploration tomorrow with the youth; I didn't like the lesson plan set out by the curriculum as it felt a bit too much like school and tried to cram too much stuff into too little time. We'll see how my version goes!

[Crossposted from dreamwidth.]