Beware, this might shape up to be a long journal entry.
MY ROMANCE WITH BLACK HAIR
MY ROMANCE WITH BLACK HAIR
SPOILERS! (Click to view)
I think that I was 12 when I first laid eyes on Siouxsie Sioux of Siouxsie and the Banshees. (She has her very first solo album coming out early next month.
That moment is perhaps not unlike the moment a pubescent boy first gazed into the eyes of Debbie Harry in the late 70's-early 80's. Perfectly enamored, bordering on obsessed.
There was me and my own genetic handout, which was not my dad's dark blonde-dirty light brown or my mom's matte darkest brown-black. No, I had something in between, a medium darkish ashy color with no highlights or depth. Just blah. I'll spare you the details of my early experiments with Sun-In (which was at the advice of my stupid aunt), and take you to 1986. (She is stupid, and I will never apologize for calling her that. Haven't spoken to her since 1992)
Onwards with my story/journal entry.....my best middle school friend A. was obsessed with Siouxsie and he introduced me to her and her music. He is still one of the most die-hard Siouxsie collectors on the planet, and I'd guesstimate his collection to be in the 6 figures.
Anyway, I started dyeing my hair blue-black when I was 12, in 1986. OMG LOLZ so OOOOOOLD@($*$111.
This simple act provoked a lot of responses from people when I came back from summer vacation with my new 'do. I'm sure the Misfits t-shirt might have contributed.
It definitely cemented my status as the absolute beacon of unpopularity in Culver City. My peer group consisted of the pre-Abercrombies, the future slut/homecoming queens, many of whom would never escape what I call the 'Al Bundy syndrome', meaning that they would forever relive their 11th grade touchdowns for all eternity...
I had been transplanted there just the year before, after my mom passed away. Such a bourgeoisie little town mentality for a place in a major metropolitan city. I paid them no mind since I had my shiny black, gleaming hair.
Who did NOT dye their hair blue-black in the 80's? Think of all the bands, the personalities, and the people generally mad, bad, and dangerous to know?
Damnit, I wanted to be part of that set, or at least be able to escape my strange childhood hell through getting down to the nitty gritty of emotions, feelings, and experiences outside of my current realm at the time.
Coincidentally, I first tried substances that year, at the behest of my scummy cousin, who thought it 'cute' to ply me with baseball bat sized joints, all the booze that I could drink, and shortly later, other things.
No no no, this isn't a tale of any incestuous goings on, thankfully, although I do recall one of his friends eying me lasciviously....
This is a tale of me and the black hair.
I'd end up keeping it, for the most part, until this year. Sometimes the cliche if it ain't broke, don't fix it, does NOT apply. This is one of those cases, with the black hair. A long time ago, someone had made an offhand comment about how HUGE my forehead was/is. You know how that goes, why remember the praise, compliments, and other polite pleasantries when one well-placed comment can cut through all of that and keep haunting you years later??
In 1994, I ended up cutting bangs into my hair to cover the dreaded 'fivehead' and then someone said that I resembled Betty Page. Oh my. Sometimes it's easier to put on act when you don't know who you really are, so I really took that comment to the next level. This was right when the next Bettie renaissance was about to take full swing.
It's funny how you can hide behind someone's vision and perception of you, and I did that for a long time. Too long, and I really almost lost myself in the process.
Do you remember Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds album in 1997, The Boatman's Call? The song Black Hair is an ode to PJ Harvey and their failed romance.
PJ Harvey, Nick Cave, Siouxsie Sioux, Aeon Flux, The Ramones, every bad girl or villainess with the exception of Snow White, had black hair? Although what was up with Snow White, something kinky had to be going on there with 7 dwarfs, no? Definitely illegal, at the very LEAST.
Fast forward to today, 2007. I'd been having this recurring vision, if you will, this daylight hallucination of being an old lady pushing a shopping cart to nowhere. The one with too much cream rouge on her cheeks, the blackish blue pencil lining both eyelids and eyebrows. The perfect fusion of Amy Winehouse and Bette Davis circa Whatever Happened to Baby Jane. I said, no no no. Sorry, had to go there,, 'cause I'm truly a dork like that.
Fearful and pensive I became with every passing moment of this vision. Exacerbating this is that I am in the entertainment field at the moment, in front of the camera, and I've been having some unpleasant run-ins with casting directors lately. No, I didn't change it for them, I did it for me, as I realized that it's prudent to evolve when you need to.
So for now, goodbye black hair. I will miss the gleaming shine in your appearance and yet I won't miss the closed-mindedness of those mean junior high taunts. The tapes from back then still play in the background of my mind, albeit extremely faintly.
Besides, I know that it's only 3 or 4 clicks away to MySpace, where I can see what has become of you. It's called my High School Group tab. Hilarity still ensues as I can see that you are STILL reliving those touchdowns. Only now, you are balding and very out of shape.
Me, I am evolving, and hey, I have had some really fabulous photos taken of me with the black hair. I have my own moments to relive. The thing is that mine will be of the fetishistic type and I will have a book or two to thrust in front of people at the nursing home.
I look forward to embarrassing my future grandchildren as well...
I think that I was 12 when I first laid eyes on Siouxsie Sioux of Siouxsie and the Banshees. (She has her very first solo album coming out early next month.
That moment is perhaps not unlike the moment a pubescent boy first gazed into the eyes of Debbie Harry in the late 70's-early 80's. Perfectly enamored, bordering on obsessed.
There was me and my own genetic handout, which was not my dad's dark blonde-dirty light brown or my mom's matte darkest brown-black. No, I had something in between, a medium darkish ashy color with no highlights or depth. Just blah. I'll spare you the details of my early experiments with Sun-In (which was at the advice of my stupid aunt), and take you to 1986. (She is stupid, and I will never apologize for calling her that. Haven't spoken to her since 1992)
Onwards with my story/journal entry.....my best middle school friend A. was obsessed with Siouxsie and he introduced me to her and her music. He is still one of the most die-hard Siouxsie collectors on the planet, and I'd guesstimate his collection to be in the 6 figures.
Anyway, I started dyeing my hair blue-black when I was 12, in 1986. OMG LOLZ so OOOOOOLD@($*$111.
This simple act provoked a lot of responses from people when I came back from summer vacation with my new 'do. I'm sure the Misfits t-shirt might have contributed.
It definitely cemented my status as the absolute beacon of unpopularity in Culver City. My peer group consisted of the pre-Abercrombies, the future slut/homecoming queens, many of whom would never escape what I call the 'Al Bundy syndrome', meaning that they would forever relive their 11th grade touchdowns for all eternity...
I had been transplanted there just the year before, after my mom passed away. Such a bourgeoisie little town mentality for a place in a major metropolitan city. I paid them no mind since I had my shiny black, gleaming hair.
Who did NOT dye their hair blue-black in the 80's? Think of all the bands, the personalities, and the people generally mad, bad, and dangerous to know?
Damnit, I wanted to be part of that set, or at least be able to escape my strange childhood hell through getting down to the nitty gritty of emotions, feelings, and experiences outside of my current realm at the time.
Coincidentally, I first tried substances that year, at the behest of my scummy cousin, who thought it 'cute' to ply me with baseball bat sized joints, all the booze that I could drink, and shortly later, other things.
No no no, this isn't a tale of any incestuous goings on, thankfully, although I do recall one of his friends eying me lasciviously....
This is a tale of me and the black hair.
I'd end up keeping it, for the most part, until this year. Sometimes the cliche if it ain't broke, don't fix it, does NOT apply. This is one of those cases, with the black hair. A long time ago, someone had made an offhand comment about how HUGE my forehead was/is. You know how that goes, why remember the praise, compliments, and other polite pleasantries when one well-placed comment can cut through all of that and keep haunting you years later??
In 1994, I ended up cutting bangs into my hair to cover the dreaded 'fivehead' and then someone said that I resembled Betty Page. Oh my. Sometimes it's easier to put on act when you don't know who you really are, so I really took that comment to the next level. This was right when the next Bettie renaissance was about to take full swing.
It's funny how you can hide behind someone's vision and perception of you, and I did that for a long time. Too long, and I really almost lost myself in the process.
Do you remember Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds album in 1997, The Boatman's Call? The song Black Hair is an ode to PJ Harvey and their failed romance.
PJ Harvey, Nick Cave, Siouxsie Sioux, Aeon Flux, The Ramones, every bad girl or villainess with the exception of Snow White, had black hair? Although what was up with Snow White, something kinky had to be going on there with 7 dwarfs, no? Definitely illegal, at the very LEAST.
Fast forward to today, 2007. I'd been having this recurring vision, if you will, this daylight hallucination of being an old lady pushing a shopping cart to nowhere. The one with too much cream rouge on her cheeks, the blackish blue pencil lining both eyelids and eyebrows. The perfect fusion of Amy Winehouse and Bette Davis circa Whatever Happened to Baby Jane. I said, no no no. Sorry, had to go there,, 'cause I'm truly a dork like that.
Fearful and pensive I became with every passing moment of this vision. Exacerbating this is that I am in the entertainment field at the moment, in front of the camera, and I've been having some unpleasant run-ins with casting directors lately. No, I didn't change it for them, I did it for me, as I realized that it's prudent to evolve when you need to.
So for now, goodbye black hair. I will miss the gleaming shine in your appearance and yet I won't miss the closed-mindedness of those mean junior high taunts. The tapes from back then still play in the background of my mind, albeit extremely faintly.
Besides, I know that it's only 3 or 4 clicks away to MySpace, where I can see what has become of you. It's called my High School Group tab. Hilarity still ensues as I can see that you are STILL reliving those touchdowns. Only now, you are balding and very out of shape.
Me, I am evolving, and hey, I have had some really fabulous photos taken of me with the black hair. I have my own moments to relive. The thing is that mine will be of the fetishistic type and I will have a book or two to thrust in front of people at the nursing home.
I look forward to embarrassing my future grandchildren as well...
/fin
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
sometimes i wonder if we can ever truly escape ourselves. most days i usually think it's impossible. a part of me really likes that idea, and a part of me really loathes it. i just wish i could pick one and go with it, because it's mentally tiring otherwise.
as trite and myspacey as this sounds, thanks for the friend request.