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| "AMERICA'S FUNNIEST HUMOR"TM
SHOWCASE
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August /
September 2006 Contest Results |
March of
the Wiglets
By Cindy Small,
Alabama
Going to the
hair salon weekly was a life and death event for my mother, grandmother
and me. It was as important as penguins crossing the Antarctic. This
vexing journey every Saturday morning was the foundation for us to
re-enter the world in an enchanting beautiful way.
Grandmother’s x-rated
lingerie shop was closed for a few hours each Saturday and a stone’s
throw from the Roosevelt Hotel House of Beauty. At 8 a.m. we huddled
together walking down University Place, clutching flower-patterned wig
boxes. We were on our way to see Mr. Steve.
It was a cyclical event,
almost a spiritual pilgrimage that I was involved with since I was old
enough to feed myself. My mother always said that you need three things in
life: a good hair stylist, a good mechanic, and a good accountant, all
in that order.
Like walking on pillows, the carpet embraced our feet entering The House
of Beauty. A hedonistic space filled with beehives and Dusty Springfield
look-a-likes. Silhouettes of hairdressers were racing everywhere. Red
vintage plastic beauty salon chairs clash with the blue painted ceiling
clouds. Franki Valli wailed “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You.”
My mother and
grandmother covered their unmentionables (long line girdles) with a
black smock as Mr. Steve morphed them into continental chic. We would
line up in chairs, wiglets on our laps, military style. My grandmother
had the platinum bouffant wiglet, my mother, the fire engine red wiglet
and I had mounds of brown rolling wiglets.
This scene alone sent shivers
up the spine of Mr. Steve. Very unpredictable, depending on the night he
had before; he was a sexually repressed, mentally unbalanced salon
worker who had an abnormal fear of women. But he was an institution. His
clients were the old guard New Orleans debutantes, the nouveau riche and
those loyal to him despite his “slap bitch” attitude.
Mr. Steve was very
popular as he created perfectly formed hair helmets. Wiglets meant
bigger, better and more. He called wiglets “transformations” and treated
them as a saintly experience as he shoved pins into our scalp. Hurricane
force winds would not move our wiglets. This creator of beauty himself
had a Betty Davis wig, a huge belly hanging over velvet pants, a very
tight madras polyester shirt and Twinkie cream hanging from his lip
corner.
The beauty salon machinery was akin to a torture chamber. Cone head
hairdryers were large, metal and oh so hot. Always overheating, my ears
would turn blood red. At times, I thought my face had sizzled like bacon
and fell to the ground. As the dryer tried to suck my brains out of my
head, this behemoth machine belched fumes. A little carbon monoxide,
anyone?
The permanent wave machine is a fond memory. It was a huge hose that
hung down from the ceiling and attached to the customer’s head.
Electrocuted yet? No, just making pretty. Vile odors of nail lacquer and
hair spray were also infused into the air. Chronic lung disease? Beauty
first.
This day of beauty reminds us that nothing brings us closer to God than
Aqua Net. Without super hold Aqua Net, there is no day of beauty. Any
style, any height can be perfected into a sculpture. Of course, 3
shampoos are required each week to remove the glue-like substance. But
what is more important than a skyscraper on your head? It takes time to
spray and time equals’ bigger hair. If your hair moves, that’s a titanic
problem. Coating the hair with Aqua Net takes an extraordinary delicate
series of maneuvers. Close your eyes hold your breath and spray. Repeat
7 times until the air is toxic enough to choke a large city. Your hair
should now feel like a tin roof. That’s a sign of achievement.
The gold square wall clock hits noon. We have been scalded, pulled,
overheated, colored, burned and molded into place. It’s been a Beauty
and the Beast morning. The women in my family always have to bear the
heavy burden of glamour. Reality is thrown to the wind. We leave the
salon expecting to walk out looking gorgeous, irrespective and
unacknowledging of any drawbacks.
Big hair makes us ready to face the
world. We are confident, happy and ready to take on anyone
who dares cross our paths. Like a penguin protects its egg long enough
before it hatches, our wiglets receive the same attention and love. We
can now overcome any daunting obstacles due to our day of beauty.
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