I’m not just a damage criminal: I’m also a fraud. And a cheat. And a liar. Throw the book at me, friends, because I need to be rehabilitated.
This is my current Facebook photo. Me and my BFF were at a wedding reception, ready to drink dance the night away! And just look at me – tousled, beachy waves cascading over my shoulders, perfectly smooth and not a hint of frizz to be seen. When I woke up that morning, I envisioned “sexy bed-head waves, with a casual, minimal-effort feel and look.”
It’s all a sham, people.
Do you know what it took to get my hair to look that way? Since I’m a damage criminal, let’s just run through my list of offences, shall we?
Charge #1: Overuse of heat-styling tools. To achieve this look, first my hair was blow-dried straight, using an 1875-watt hair dryer. Next, it was set in hot rollers, in an attempt to achieve a de-constructed wave. Finally, it was curled with a large-barrel curling iron, to seal the ends and set the style.
It’s true: searing-hot styling tools were used on my hair three times in less than two hours.
Charge #2: Overzealous back-combing. See my crown, full of body? Manufactured volume, peeps, created by back-combing the hair until it stands straight up, and then, is smoothed over. And in case you’re wondering, back-combing is just a stylist’s fancy word for teasing. YES, my hair was teased (read: ruined) and then sprayed into submission.
Charge #3: The use of an accomplice. I didn’t even commit the crime myself; I paid a stylist $175 to execute my vision of perfect hair. That’s right – I’m the worst kind of damage criminal; the kind that hires a hitman to do my dirty work for me. (He shall remain nameless to protect his identity.)
But perhaps the absolute worst offence – the one thing that ensures that I’ll never truly be a reformed character – is the fact that I don’t want to stop using heat-styling tools. I don’t want to have anything less than gorgeous hair. I just want something that will erase the damage – and allow me to continue a life of crime without looking over my shoulder, or in this case, pulling frizzy, tortured hairs from my hairbrush. …