Reply #14: OOH, those butterfly clips are GREAT [View All]

[Warpy]

When I was working 12 hour shifts, I kept my hair in what my mother called a "bull dyke haircut," and she had one just like it. When I got unemployed and I knew my back wouldn't let me do nursing any more, I just let my hair grow, figured I'd just have to suck it up during that transitional phase when I looked like a crazy woman. I also stripped the red dye out, something that took about four boxes of the stuff since the first box reduced me to dayglo orange (think "Run, Lola, Run") Now it's long enough to snag in one of those clips and it's great, just roll out of bed, drag a comb through it, and slam a clip on.

That was the other "rite of passage" thing that I hated along with all those rubber foundation garments, the perm followed by trying to sleep on brush rollers every night. Ouch. Then getting up at 5 AM to tease and spray the mess into whatever confection was popular that year. The punishment for not doing so was extreme, as was the punishment for not encasing one's body in nylon and rubber in 90 degree weather.

It's funny, I was raised on cowyboy and Indian shows. I always wanted to be the Indians because I looked at the whitefolks and their high button shoes, corsets, and all day Sunday church and decided buckskin, moccasins, and the occasional butchery of dead enemies suited me much better.

The last half of the 60s were wonderful, a wholesale breaking out of societal and physical constriction, the latter appalling our parents more than the former.

I can't belive modish young women are allowing themselves to be conned into wearing girdles and high heeled shoes. Bras are small stuff compared to those.