Normally I hate the Yahoo faux-news, but this was irresistable click-bait.
Both my friend Lil and I think our hairdressers messed up our wedding day hair. Lil thought she should have done her own. I thought I shouldn't have fallen out with my magical Caribbean stylist.
Frankly, I think Lily looked fine. In fact she is the only bride I know as a friend who looked as stunning as a "bride" in a perfume ad. Yes, yes, all brides are beautiful on their wedding day, beauty is only skin deep, yadda yadda. But unlike anyone else I know, she could have immediately done a photo shoot for Estée Lauder.
I, however, just looked like me--or would have looked like me had I not attempted to do a cut-price hot iron straighten. I highly regret this now--although perhaps this is a sign I really need to let certain memories go. I mean, who cares about my hair almost seven years ago? I made sure I looked better on my fifth anniversary than on the day itself, so I should let it rest.
What happened is that I made an appointment with my magical Caribbean stylist who was unfortunately not working at the same salon anymore. She was away and gone to some other part of town, where I was willing to go. Being on a shoestring budget, I was careful not to mention that I was going to get married the next day. Toronto hairdressers hear "wedding" and charge mega-bucks, no matter what you are having done to your hair. I can understand this when it is going to take hours, but my hair always takes hours anyway--as MCS may have remembered, as she called back to renegotiate the price. Bridezilla answered the phone and roared.
So instead of having perfectly smooth and shiny hair like Julianne Moore I had rather flat and limp mall hair and, honestly, I should have had the hairdresser just put it in a simple bun, telling her it was for "a big date" and slept propped up on pillows so as not to disturb the Friday night arrangement. Or--staggering thought--I could have got my mother and sisters to do it.
Less is more. Less is more. Less is more.
I will now cheer us all up with a photo from B.A.'s and my Fifth Wedding Anniversary:
P.S. Brides. Superfragile. Do not easily let go of what happens on wedding day. Must be treated even more gently than newborn baby skulls, let alone Singles.
Personal Top Ten hierarchy of fragility: Unborn babies, brides, newborn baby skulls, children, recently bereaved parents, recently bereaved widows and widowers, long-term Searching Singles, teenagers, childless-not-by-choice, seminary drop-outs. PhD dropouts are also very fragile, but I am not sure if they are more or less fragile than seminary drop-outs. The unemployed-not-by-choice should be in there, too, of course.