Beyonce Wind Machine Hair
This morning I actually took the time to do my hair. And I’m not talking about just combing it, oh no. I ran a flat iron through it, AND … wait for it … styled it by slicking a front piece back with a bobby pin. It took time, placement, patience … talk about motivation on a Tuesday, am I right?
My walk to the train is about 8 minutes, maybe 6 sometimes if I’m really hustling. And yes, I’m usually hustling because I’m notoriously always late. But thanks to this “awesome” spring we’ve been having, I usually have to deal with the elements, whether it is bitterly cold in the morning, raining, or more recently, windy. Like obnoxiously windy where I fear I may get blown off the train platform. But honestly … that is just the beginning of my windssues (see what I did there).
Quite frankly, I think this “April showers brings May flowers” nonsense is a bunch of hogwash. It should be, “April wind storms brings really bad hair days to women.” Nothing infuriates me more than when I see a woman in a gust of wind looking like Beyonce with a wind machine on her. And I see them all the time. Me? Well, my hair usually does this really heinous dance when wind hits it. It’s like swing dancing with hair, except more annoying and less cool. Here are some of its moves:
1. The Fling Around: Makes your hair look like a bad toupee with a weird fake comb over
2. The Smack Across The Face: Need I say more?
3. Low Visibility: Hair gets in your eyes making it difficult to see in front of you (yes, I have walked into things before)
4. The Illusionist: Hair flings to the opposite sides of your face creating a fake beard
5. The Glossy: Hair in lip gloss, my favorite and yours (nothing like the ends of your hair being covered in sticky gloss that you can do nothing about until you shower)
Never once does my hair get flung backwards in some sexy, fantastic super model fashion. Never. Once. I’m always that girl trying to casually keep my shit together as my hair flies around like Medusa. And then you end up on the train, like me this morning, thankful that you no longer are getting blown around like a rag doll, thinking you look just as good as you did when you left the house, only to catch a glimpse of yourself in the train car window to see you have an alfalfa-like piece of hair sticking straight out of your bobby pin. And that is when I quietly removed said bobby pins shamefully, deconstructing all of my hard work.
Sigh, so yeah to the Kate Upton’s of the world who always get caught in the perfect gust of wind, never ruining any hair style you worked so hard on … I hate your face … just a little.