11 02 2008

For a time, everyone had long hair. Mine was at least to my waist. So was my oldest brother’s. My other brother did the fro thing as his puffed out as it grew. Short hair was unthinkable. Bizarre. Signaled your support for Nixon or suburban life or the establishment.

But then my boyfriend with the flowy hair showed up one summer day, completely shorn, buzz-style. And instead of bell bottoms and a fringed jacket, he wore skinny pants and high-top Converse. Appalled, I found myself pulling away although I sensed that my response meant something not so nice– about me.



One response

13 02 2008
100 Words: Hair | Reflections on a Ridiculous World

[…] attached (and gloriously flowing (ie. long)) state: 1. Headbanging on a higher plane 2. Intrinsic symbol of temporal and social commitment to metal despite disapproval under accepted (and enforced) […]

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: