November 15, 2008
Gender Observation & Hair Care
I've come to the realization that no matter how destitute, bankrupt, broke, foreclosed-upon, forlorn, bereft, or empty-handed a woman may be, she always has enough to buy hair color. I picture in some post-feminist future a lost all-woman astronaut exploration trip to the Martian poles. They are found months later deceased in a horrible scene of scattered oxygen canisters, shredded food pouches, and nightmarish evidence of desperate cannibalism. But next to them, piled high in neatly stacked boxes and measured out on smudged plastic instruments, lie carefully mixed shades of Lady Clairol.
Hair color and push-up bras.
Posted by: eerie at November 16, 2008 09:24 PM
Just a couple of days before passing on to the Great Hair Salon in Heaven, my mother-in-law, barely able to walk, knowing she was likely only days from her demise, looked at her daughter, and said "It's time to dye my hair."
Before you say she felt the need to be a good-looking corpse: she was cremated.
(I just checked the date. Been a while since I've been here. Oh well.)
Posted by: pantom at December 9, 2008 09:35 PM