Feather, claw, curl

So this all started because someone posted that it was "Wayback Week" on Facebook. I went a little crazy scanning old pictures. It was fun, and Dr. G was down in Dillon much of this past week doing field work for his new groundwater studies. So I had some time on my hands.

Yes, the house got a little trashed around me. But it is cleanuppable. Now the pictures are scanned and will stay scanned forever, and I can do things like walk you through the evolution of my hair from 1987 to 1993. You can see the value in that, right?

The perm. The feathering. The white banana clip with gold hearts. It's all 1987. Just so you know, the sweater was pink with a round yoke and puffed sleeves. It would actually be chic again in 2010.

The short life of my efforts with "claw" style bangs. I'm the one in the Gene Loves Jezebel shirt on the couch. The rest of those girls, my compatriots from Young Women in my ward in Pittsburgh.

Again with my girls, this time with shaggy, red hair. The color started with a supposedly temporary dye job for a play (FAUGH by Jerome McDonough, a true classic) and kind of stayed that way all year.

At the end of my freshman year of high school I somehow got roped into being a hair model for a cosmetology show. I got this cute cut, an extreme angled bob, shaved up the back. I loved this cut. I still think it is about the most perfect cut ever invented. I am presently unwilling to undertake the maintenance, though.

Here's how I looked around the time I met Dr. G. Again with the Gene Loves Jezebel shirt. I loved that shirt.

Here I am at the beginning of my junior year. The slight flip was almost unheard of at this time (Fall 1990). I was wearing a hand-knit sweater that used to be my mom's in the '60s. It had no buttons left, so I stretched it out and pinned it so that it crossed over at the hem and made sort of a V shape. Under it I usually wore a white camisole, the khaki sleeveless dress you see here, and some Timberland riding boots. It was J. Jill before I ever heard of J. Jill, I guess.

Taken by a fellow student when I was in a photography class (my only D in high school. I was overextended that semester and photography had to give). Notable: my hair was really, really straight. It is not that straight anymore. It bends all over the place.

I got this perm before my junior prom. It was actually a pretty good choice, for 1991. The scarf in this picture is one I still have and still wear. A gift from my dad. I love the Northwest native design.

I grew out the perm before college and chopped off my hair after Dr. G and I got engaged in December 1992. Again, it was pretty much an angled bob, but this time stacked up to the U-shape instead of shaved in the back. My mom was in wonder that I would cut off all that hair for my wedding. And then to boot, I went red again. Well. He married me anyway.

The irony: I now hate doing my hair. I have no patience for it. Right now it is almost at shoulder length, layered, dyed medium brown. If I blow it try it looks OK. It may flip, it may turn under, I don't care anymore. I put in a little mousse (I have lots of experience with mousse; see senior portrait above) and tousle it, and that's all. Most days I don't even want to bother with that, and it goes back in a clip. Silly.