Monday, December 8, 2008


I came across this picture of me from 1989. Obviously the first thing one notices when looking at this photo cute my clothes are. Or maybe it's my hair? Can't really be sure!

I remember that hair and I remember it well. Each morning the process I went through to achieve such heights could be likened to Michelangelo and the Sistine Chapel. It was a detailed regimen that left my arms weak and tingly every morning. But oh what a result! My hair was tall. My hair was immovable. My hair framed my face like some kind of wreath.

The results I achieved were worth the early alarm clock (Rome wasn't built in a day and my hair wasn't coiffed in ten minutes); it was worth the hole my hair spray cans single handedly put in the ozone. It was worth the subsequent damage my hair sustained (and I believe still suffers from.)

This hair that many of us wore in all it's glory during the 80's and early 90's, had it's place in time. But, hopefully it won't ever make a come back. I don't think I have the fortitude or arm strength to manage it at 35. Plus, I know my particular style required a perm. Does Ogilivie even exist anymore?

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