I'm sure that we have all had a "bad hair day" once in a while. Some of us have them more than others. I am one of those people who cannot recall ever NOT having a bad hair day. Regardless of what I do to/with it, I am never really happy with my hair. Sure, some days are better than others, but those days are rare and my hair is still not as good as I'd like it to be. Consequently, my hair is the bane of my existence. I used to bitch about my hair color. You see, I am a red-head. And while I still am not in love with the color, I now realize that a larger problem than the color is the hair itself. It is too coarse and is always unmanageable. Sometimes people will laugh at me while at work because I will ask if my hair is okay somewhat often, to a Shandling-esque degree. This is not due to vanity, as I think some people construe it. It is only because I know that my hair is always attempting to rearrange itself into a pattern that is much worse than the one I painstakingly planned (which, admittedly, still isn't that great ). Now you may be asking yourself, "Well, why doesn't Sam just shave his head?". I am of the opinion that shaved heads never look right on white people. While black people can pull off the baldness with ease, white people look like skinheads. Besides, I have two extra bones in the back of my head which, while are unnoticed when I have hair, would be easy to see were I to be buzzed, much less bald. Well, enough explanation, I shall now offer the evidence of my bad hair:
This may be my best hair ever.
I was very young so I only had peach fuzz on my head. It was very
soft and extremely manageable. This will be the only time that you
will see my face. I have hidden it to protect the bad haired . .
.me.
It didn't take long. This
picture could not have been taken too much later than the first.
And yet my hair is atrocious. Fortunately, the fact that I was a
small child offered the perfect excuse.
I'm a little older here but
the excuse is still very usable.
I have to blame this one on
the woman who cut my hair. Irene was her name. But in all fairness,
she didn't have much with which to work.
Not much to say here.
Don't ask me what those bangs
are for. There was a time in eleventh grade or so when I buzzed my
hair, but let my bangs grow (they were past my chin before I cut them),
but this picture was taken long before those days. I, again, must
blame Irene.
This was taken on some family
vacation. I think my hair was wet so that's not so bad.
Apart from the fact that my
hair is sticking up all over, one can easily see in this picture one of
my numerous hair mistakes: the tail. I remember a time when they
were in style (not usually for white kids, but . . .), but I cannot remember
a time when they looked good. In fact, I think that the only person
who liked my "tail" was my father. However, you didn't refer to it
as a tail, but instead, a "handle".
It's hard to tell if this is
a tail or if my hair was just in dire need of being cut. I believe
that this picture was taken on the same trip, however, so I'd have to go
with the former explanation. You'll notice that I made the wise decision
to wear a hat that day, something I do when my hair is even worse than
usual. One might ask why I do not always wear hats if I hate my hair
so. Apart from the obvious reason that I cannot wear a hat to some
places, like work, my reasons are twofold. First, my idiot father
has ingrained in me the notion that one should always remove ones hat when
indoors. And if there is anything worse than MY hair, it's hat hair.
It should be noted that, on occasions when I do have horrendous hair and
opt to wear a hat, I leave it on even when indoors. However, I do
feel bad about doing so. A second reason why I do not wear hats more
often is that it has been found that people can go bald in the area of
the head where the hat applies the most pressure. This happens over
a period of time after a great deal of stress has been placed on these
areas of the head. While I am not a big fan of the my hair, I deplore
the notion of going bald.
I never used hair spray until
my junior year of high school. I hated the feeling of having that
crap in my hair. I still don't like it much, but it beats the alternative.
Apart from just being mussed,
it's just big. I would have big hair for a while (I still do, but
more frequent visits to a barber have cut the problem considerably ).
Hair spray would have helped, too.
The picture to the right is
a close-up of the particularly bad area. Which is too bad, because
otherwise the hair isn't too horrible. The close-up shows the problem:
the tail. As you can see, by now it was pretty long. I don't
think I left it in much longer before someone grabbed me by it and pulled
my head out of my ass.
It just looks like a big puff
here.
Okay, this was my football picture.
It was taken outside and I remember it being windy. Having excused
my hair's badness, I will say that I doubt that my hair was much better
an hour before when I didn't have any excuses.
Another outside picture. I don't recall it being windy that day,
so I can't use that as an excuse. Besides, my hair isn't blowing
and it isn't out of place. It's just bad. You can get an idea
of how course my hair is from this picture. It looks layered, too.
This is a rare look at the top
of my hair. Again, look at its coarseness. Also, do you see
all of the hair sticking up at the part? Again, a little hairspray
would have taken care of that.
I really hate this one.
This hair reminds me of Gumby. Look how high it sticks up on the
left. This comes from my hair's bigness. It manages to get
big away from the part. Because, of this, I can never let my hair
grow long. Before it gets long, it gets big. There was a point
when I was trying to let my hair grow and I think it just reached a point
of bigness and just stopped. I remember being called Ronald McDonald
then. I get haircuts much more frequently, now.
This was taken only a few days
before graduation. It's not too bad. I think I used some hairspray.
It's far from perfect, but it looks better than it would a few days later.
This and the next picture were
taken at graduation. On a day when I made a point to do all with
my hair that I could, it still looks like a giant puff.
The same day. I only included
this picture because my hair looks flat on top, to top off (no pun intended)
the rest of my hair problems.
Here is my wonderful, wonderful
driver's license photo. As you can plainly see, my hair is black
here. As i mentioned, there was a time when I hated my red hair. But
the hair color is not the only problem here. The hair is very poofy
on the sides. This was an awful time.
This one was taken within the
past year. Hairspray helps. It doesn't look too bad, actually.
One might think that my curse is over. However, I know better.
I can assure you that my hair did not look this good in person. But
if I my hair can look good in pictures only, I guess that will have to
do since it doesn't look good on any other venue.
I guess that about does it. When I get more pictures of my bad hair, rest assured, I will share them. Until then, I hope that you have enjoyed your walk down Bad Hair Lane. If you have come to appreciate your own hair a little more, well then, I've done my job. If you have any questions, comments, or if you just want to make fun of my hair, you can e-mail me at [email protected]. I look forward to hearing from you.
Here are some links which may be of interest.