I think there is a general dawning among us in the Iso-verse that hair care is… essential.
A few weeks/years ago, I was in a group chat among writers from all around the US, and the conversation drifted to who had what level of isolation restriction, so far. Most of us were already shelter-in-place, but for some businesses were not yet closed. Their experience was like ours was, on that Friday, when the NBA games were cancelled, and Disney closed its themeparks, and my whole family was going to start working from home, come Monday.
We thought, wow, this is going to be weird, and we headed to Denny’s for breakfast, before we stocked up on groceries and essentials with close proximity with everyone in LA. For my writer friends, isolation wasn’t real yet. They had no idea the impact of shelter-in-place on their simple, happy lives.
I told them – get your hair done, now. You’ll be glad you did. Everyone on the call laughed in uneasy agreement.
Fast forward a few weeks, and my hair situation feels akin to Tom Hanks’s toothache in Cast Away. If you remember, he should have gone to the dentist before his plane crashed and his world altered irrversibly. Eventually he had to figure out a way, on his desert island, to pull his own tooth. Cringe.
Things are dire. I don’t think of myself as vain, but like most people, there’s a certain (low) standard of grooming and looks that I aspire to, and that makes me feel happy. My gray, draggy hair was not cutting it. Besides, I’m fat. I cannot also be gray.
Hair care is not essential and I get that. And there is no way you can get a haircut and color and stay 6 feet from the hairdresser.
My mind, trained in brainstorming techniques, started working on the problem. What might be all the ways that someone could provide hair care safely in this COVID environment?
What about a new chain of haircutteries called Hole In The Wall. You could stick the top half of your head through the hole so the stylist could do her magic, as you both kept your mucous membranes on opposite sides of the wall. Million dollar idea, right? But who has time.
With new training and certification, haircutters could learn to throw knives from six feet to cut your hair. Like a sideshow act, you’d have to stand very still as the knives whizzed past your ear. You’d still have to cut your own bangs, though.
What else, what else? There must be a way.
I broke down and bought a box of hair dye from the grocery and held it another 100 days (the second half of March.) I just didn’t trust it. The other day, I was going to bite the bullet, and do it. Well, my daughter, who is in captivity with me, was going to do it.
Before we started, I took one last stab at hair rescue, entreating my favorite stylist. I texted her.
Me: “I find it hard to believe, hair is non-essential, but you’re closed, right?”
Her: yes 🙁
Me: I asked about her health and safety (I’m not an animal.)
Her: We’re well, thanks
I looked at the box of Clairol. Was it too blond? Would it cover gray? Would I have an allergic reaction? Could my daughter do a reasonable job? Would I be stuck with HORRIBLE HAIR for the remainder of the isolation? ALL THOSE ZOOM CALLS – which is society in the iso-verse.
I felt actual angst about it. I even briefly thought it was worth risking our lives, rather than braving the grocery store coloring options. Clairol vs. COVID. In that moment, Clairol seemed worse.
Me: Yeah, I knew you’d be closed. But of course my hair is awful. (hint, hint. But I didn’t say “hint, hint.” Repeat: I’m not an animal.)
Her: It’s hard, but they made us close. They even said they would turn off utilities if we remained open.
Wow, the city of Los Angeles was serious. So, I was stuck. She couldn’t possibly do my hair, even if she wanted to. Clariol vs. COVID. How had it come to this?
Lord, what fools these mortals be.
I colored my hair. Well, my daughter did, and it looks fine. It didn’t cover the gray, and it still looks okay. My ego and seemingly very fragile mood modulator are in tact. I sincerely hope I don’t have a similar text echange with my dentist.
What seems suddenly essential to you? I hope no one is having a family member pull a tooth, or birth a baby, or God forbid, color their hair! Be well and safe. And if you see me in a Zoom call, please lie and tell me my hair looks great.
PS – if you want in on some very enlightening and helpful Zoom calls for writers, join the FB group! We chat about important things in there, too. Come join us. We’ll all stay 6 feet apart. And tell you your hair looks great.