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Hair Envy.

Melissa Beene Ford/ Uncategorized

I wouldn’t say I have the worst hair in the world. 

No, because there’s that woman who works at WalMart who has twelve hairs on her head and a full beard on her face. I know you’ve seen her.

She makes me feel better about myself.

But my hair, while not that bad, is hard to deal with.

In fact, I was telling my mom about this blog post this morning and she reminded me of how as a child, my hair was THE WORST of her three daughters, and how hard it was to fix, and to cut, because it was like plastic Barbie doll hair. I had to have store- bought hair cuts, while she could cut the others’ at home, because they had decent hair that could be cut in a straight line.

I’m sensing a home hair cut gone awry judging by those bangs.

I know exactly what she means because Annie has that same slick plastic-y hair that slips and slides around (compounded by half a dozen cowlicks) that makes it pretty dang impossible to style or to be constrained by a ponytail holder. I’m sorry, Annie; it will be better 30 years from now, but you’ll have to pay good money for it… ask me how I know.

And then mom told me about that time when I was three and pilfered a pair of scissors and cut my own bangs — diagonally, which made her JUST SICK. I am quite sure that it did, because I know how slowly my hair grows and how excruciatingly looooong it takes to overcome a bad hair cut. 


But that wasn’t the last time I cut my own hair. From 1984 to 1987 I thought the more bangs you have, the better. If your hair looks like a flock of seagulls, then job well done. Mullet, I believe, is the official name for this disaster.


Yeah, I did that myself. I mean, I had watched my hair being cut many times, and it didn’t look that hard. I distinctly remember making one cut, then I had to even it up, and make another one, even it up, and so on, until I had bangs clear to the back of my head. Heaven help. 


Things got better in high school with the invention of the spiral perm. 

This was our church directory picture, circa 1989. I remember my dad taking one look at this picture and with a huge sigh, saying he couldn’t wait until hair styles changed. I was shocked, because, I mean, truly, was there ANYTHING more BEAUTIFUL than a spiral perm?!!

Hot rollers…. staple of high school hair.

For senior prom, I rolled, teased, sprayed, teased, sprayed, teased. Oh, it was gorgeous. It could have withstood gale force winds.

Isn’t it weird how my date was headless?! 

Hair continued to get bigger, but sadly, this was the best I could do. This was my senior picture…

What… you think THAT’S big?! Oh no, honey… with my extra fine blonde hair, I never could get more than an inch or two of height, and that was with six hair products and half a can of hairspray, holding the sides out while I dried the hair spray with a hairdryer.

My sister, with her good hair, had me beat by a mile…

Sorry Betsy. I had to.

Then there were these girls, from the back of my yearbook. The pinnacle of hair excellence, right here. THIS explains massive inferiority complex in high school, because I could never, ever compete with these girls and their hair…. (and I’m still jealous).

In my college days came the ‘grunge’ thing… you know, flannel shirts. I wore flannel shirts and hiking boots to go out. THAT was ‘dressed up.’ It seems so strange now. And suddenly straight hair was acceptable again.



After college I thought my long hair made me look really young {it did} and I wanted to be  treated like a grown-up instead of a kid. I wanted to look like a business woman {Romy & Michelle, ahem}. I cut my hair. I wore pumps and bought suits from Casual Corner. I still got treated like a kid. 

1996. My ‘grown-up’ look.

My hair got shorter and shorter. At the time, I thought I looked good. Then I look back at pictures and snicker at myself… 

My hair looks like a stiff, sprayed-up football helmet.

The ‘Meg Ryan’ look.  


What is this?! I look like a bottle brush!
shorter still…. 

And then it happened. I was addicted to hair cuts. Until that day in the stylist’s chair, when she told me she wanted to make my hair ‘close to my head’ in the back. I said, “Sure! Yeah! I don’t care. Whatever.” and promptly buried my nose in an InStyle magazine and paid no attention as she gave me this… 
At a formal event in Hawaii.

As it turns out, ‘close to your head’ means ‘one-quarter of an inch long.’ I left in tears.

The haircut was phenomenal — never before or since have I gotten that many compliments on my  hair — but it wasn’t me. I’m traditional, dangit. I like long hair on women. And skirts. And cooking in an apron and staying home with the children.

It took years for that stuff to grow out. YEARS. And it’s not as long as I want it to be now, but it’s getting there. Thank goodness for those prenatal vitamins…

My dream hair? Voluminous waves like these. Long, flowing voluminous waves like these… 

(I can dream, can’t I?)

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Comments

  1. LKS says

    April 11, 2013 at 12:25 am

    Oh girl! You have been in more weddings than I have even attended! And I like the bottle brush look. You are so gorgeous I should hate you. And that little girl pic? KB senior there!

    Reply
  2. Artsy Chicks Rule says

    April 11, 2013 at 2:43 am

    Love it!! Brought back SO many big hair memories!!lol (I graduated HS in 85 so yes, spiral perms, big hair all the way) <br />I actually think you look great in the &quot;meg ryan&quot; cut! I could never do short hair…looks terrible on me. I&#39;m a long hair girl all the way but I&#39;ve always been a bit envious of those girls who could pull of the short, sassy dos!

    Reply
  3. Kerry @ Made For Real says

    April 13, 2013 at 11:42 pm

    Ok, that one pick totally looks like the church I got married in! The pics are priceless : )

    Reply

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About Me


Hey there... I'm Melissa! Texas girl. Mom to three + one goldendoodle. Believer. Old house fanatic. Creating a happy + healthy home with purpose is my passion. I'm so glad you're here!

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I don’t know who’s big idea it was to strip 80 I don’t know who’s big idea it was to strip 80 years of paint off of this door down to the wood and start over… but that person has no business starting new projects. 😅 My neighbors must have thought this project would never end. *I* thought this project would never end. 😰 If you’re thinking of doing this yourself? Just don’t, ok? Throw the whole door away and buy a new one. 😂🤣 Just kidding.  Old house weirdos like me… we can’t just do things the easy way. Anyhoo… after some trial and error, @sherwinwilliams Celestial is what I landed on, and I have to say… I like it. Periwinkle-ish blue looks great with the yellow house and will look even better when the azaleas are in bloom. Was it all worth it? That’s not important right now. 🤭 Will I do this all again in two years? The magic eight ball says… without a doubt. 👏🏻 I’ve already picked the next color. #gluttonforpunishment #somefoolsneverlearn #oldhouselove #oldhomelove #makinghome #southernliving #gardenandgun #azaleadistrict #tylertx
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2022 had its highs and lows for sure, but scrollin 2022 had its highs and lows for sure, but scrolling through my pics from the last twelve months made me realize how blessed and content I am. Prosperity, love, and peace have been ours in abundance, in spite of the pain of losing my dad. The second picture is the last picture of him… the last time I saw him. 💔 But God has been good to my family this year and 2022 is ending far better than it began. 😄 #2022inreview #thanksforthememories
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That’s it. That’s the tour. (Slide two). 
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It’s a new trend I’m starting: bare Christmas tree. Lowe’s tag still attached (so quirky and unexpected)! Christmas ornaments still in boxes. Coming soon to an Anthropologie window display near you. 
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Every year I think, “next year I’ll do better. Next year I’ll have it together.” And then, here we are on the SIXTH Christmas that we’ve been in this house, the sixth Christmas I’ve dragged our chaotic bunch of Christmas mess out of a chaotic garage I still haven’t unpacked from our move six years ago. 
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Maybe this year is the year I’ll organize it all and put it back neatly so that by Christmas number 7, it will be smooth sailing. People will flock to my social media to see how I’ve pulled everything off SO PERFECTLY. Next year will be my year. 
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I put this sign on the wall in my office so I could keep it in front of my eyes: Love. Joy. Peace. And all that. I am SO unlike Jesus most days. So lacking in all of these character qualities. And that’s WITH waking up most mornings and spending my first 30 minutes with God Himself. 
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How lost would I be without that? Geez. I can’t fathom. I REQUIRE being transformed by renewing my mind every single morning, and even then, responding to people and life with love, joy, peace and patience doesn’t come naturally. 
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It’s the goal, though. 
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This weary world needs that from us Believers during this season, more than ever… even more than an Anthropologie-window-display worthy Christmas home tour. 
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I’m working on both.
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