Hair’s the thing

Most of my life I’ve been hair-obsessed. Me AND ALL THE WOMEN. I can’t count how many times I’ve heard a woman say, My husband would kill me if I cut my hair! so it’s not just women. Jennifer Aniston is known more for her Rachel haircut than her acting, and everyone agrees that only Halle Berry lookalikes can rock such short hair.

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When I was in grade seven, I had this French teacher with BIG hair and even BIGGER tits. Madame Simone. She had a habit of perching on the edge of your desk while she recited the new words of the week….

...le livre (book)

le stylo (pen)

le tableau (chalkboard)

la note (grade)

cheveux (hair)

Wait! What?! What did hair have to do with that list?  

Rien. Nothing.

But no matter the list -animals, objects, colours, etc- at the end Madame S. would add cheveux. Then she would laugh so generously that her hair and her breasts bounced in tandem as she chirped, Because, les garçons et filles, hair’s the thing!

Hair’s the thing.

Madame Simone may have been on to something. And humans may have a lot to learn from their hair.

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When wet, a healthy strand of hair can stretch an additional 30% of its original length.

So, wettttttt hairrrrrrrr stretttttttchessssss.

In the many anthologies written on the subject of happiness, wet, or rain, often depicts the hard times. The divorce times. or the depressed times. The cancer times. or the car engine just blew times. Even the I feel fat and ugly times. And I got 60 on a paper times. And the I thought he liked me, but apparently not times.

Or.

A shitty race. A rebellious teenager. A mean boss. Lukewarm coffee. A grumpy partner. ANOTHER GREY NON-SUNSHINY DAY. AND ANOTHER. AND ANOTHER. AND ONE MORE.

Hair’s the thing.

The way we handle these wet times determines our stretchiness. Our growth. Kick. Scream. Curse. Shake your fist at God. Or whatever you do to feel better. And then stretttttchhhhh. Go for a run. Meditate. Pray. Dance. Journal. Or whatever you do to feel better.

When it all dries up, you’ll be better somehow. Kinder. More patient. or loving. More forgiving. and compassionate.

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Hair’s an even better thing.

Goosebumps from cold or fear are the result of hair follicles contracting, causing the hair and surrounding skin to bunch up. 

Yup. It’s the hair that pulls everything together in a bunch when you’re cold or scared.

Hair doesn’t separate and see who can win. who can make more money. sport the nicest purse or car. get the most likes. and the most followers. have the smallest waist. or the least amount of wrinkles. do the best handstand. run the fastest race.

Hair doesn’t divide and conquer. It doesn’t kick you when you’re down. It doesn’t smirk at failure. Or ask Who does she think she is? Hair doesn’t share the dirt of the other hairs to everyone. Hair doesn’t judge. and criticize.

Nope.

Hair bunches up. It pulls its neighbours in and protects them when they’re cold and afraid.

Bunchers. I wanna’ be a buncher.

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Hair’s my favourite thing.

The only thing about you that can’t be identified by your hair is whether you’re a man or a woman—men’s hair and women’s hair are identical in structure.

Equal pay for hair.

For hair, poverty is not a women’s issue.

Hair doesn’t build glass ceilings.

Equal housework for all hair.

Hair treats all athletes the same.

Hair doesn’t place luxury taxes on tampons. Ironic since that blood flow was necessary to create all the men. So does this mean men are a luxury not a necessity?!

Hair thinks we are all equal.

And hair’s the thing.

We are.

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Hair’s the moral of the story:

Stretch.

Bunch.

Equalize.

ps. The anticipation of sex makes hair grow faster.

pss. I love you.


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