by Michelle Grismer

Created on: March 19, 2010   Last Updated: April 08, 2010

Like many women with curly hair I  am a former self hair hater.

For years I would flatten, straighten and generally put my hair through the ringer.

I have grown as a person enough to say " I have curly hair and I love it".

The late eighties began the decade of the Big hair, especially here in Texas.

The height of the hair was of the utmost importance for gals all over the Lone star state..

With the correct hair care  products and a permanent wave  anyone could achieve the mountain of magic that appeared on the heads of

movie stars, celebrities and the checker at the local super market.

Hairdresser's every where were spraying  and permanent waving their way into fame and fortune.

I was in curly hair girl heaven right where I belonged.

My tresses were the rage and men finally had no excuse for not turning their heads and getting to know the woman beyond the mane.

There were curls everywhere , blocking the view of  countless drivers, movie  goers, and church members everywhere.

The smell of a fresh perm wafted through the malls all over America much like a fine perfume.

My curls were my own thank you very much and  I wore them wild and free.

My freakishly large head was unfortunately the cause of many a person having to say " Excuse me, could you move just a bit"

When I traveled through convenient store doors the tape marker always said 5 foot 10 instead of the 5 foot 8 my Drivers license stated

One fateful day took the cake for me.

As I was getting into my tiny  steamy hot sports car my mound of glory stuck to the headliner of my car.

Apparently my hair was so sticky with hair care product that I was fused to the headliner.

This moment was pivotal for me and I came to a huge decision in my life.

To cut or not to cut that was the question.

I cut my hair shoulder length thinking this would solve my problem.

One day while sitting in the hairdressers chair  shaking my curls around and taking in the smell of the permanent wave solution into my 

lungs I saw the glint of light coming from a piece of metal that would change the tide of my love of all things curly.

The young hip hairdresser in the bunch bounced over and offered to  " Flatten my hair" .

I looked at her with horror in my face. " Excuse me, I laughed .  My first thought is that the poor dear was mistaken.

" See, I just did Jodie's"   Jodie was a woman five years older than me and  someone I admired for her style and confidence.

My eyes must be deceiving me I thought instantly  Jodie looked like a different person.

Jodie  came  over looking 20 years younger and smiling ear to ear.

" What do you think? ", Jodie asked with a twinkle in her eyes like that of a fifteen year old girl.

Had my reign ended?

Just as the thought crossed my mind three other women begged to be " Flattened".

Sixteen years later and there are curls one day and flat the next.

Women have waist length hair one day and a pixie cut the next.

Curls are beautiful of course but so are waves, so I will ride this one and promise to never chemically alter what I was born with.

 

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