The Book of Bad Hair

The other day while I was weeding my garden a thought occurred to me (ahem). You know, they really should make a book of weeds. I mean, they have books of flowers in bloom but it seems like it makes more sense to identify the weeds and just leave the rest. Maybe it’s counter intuitive but I’m a person who may rather pick a flower than leave a weed. So there is a linear thought pattern…….wait for it…….wait for it……..wait for it………..The Book Of Bad Hair.

The Book Of Bad hair is not my first book idea of the sort. I also thought of a table book called “Hairdresser” which was based on a series of photos from a Chicago hair show where I took pictures of stylists with really bad hair (see blog entry). It was a particularly coiffure-anemic or, should I say photographically-rich crowd and the climactic photo involved a bejeweled hearing aid adjacent to a clippered landscape of a midwestern hay field. 

But now my idea of The Book of Bad Hair has evolved to be a sort of teaching guide of what not to do. I know that we all (and by all I mean me), as stylists (me, again), have a moment where a client is describing a certain cut, technique or color and our eyes go dead and we start to wonder how terrible it would be if we maybe, you know, just had a slight seizure. Nothing painful, only momentary, just enough to put us out of commission for maybe, oh, you know, exactly the amount of time it would take to do such said cut, technique or color. I might conjure up some Shirley Hemphill/Fred Sanford mash up, not sure but working on it…..

I would just love to be able to have a book that I could grab, open the book to the perfect picture and say “Now THIS is what you are describing. Is this what you want me to do?”  And then, if it’s a yes, well, I can close the cover to The Book Of Bad Hair and say “Great! Let’s do it!”

Seize. Fall. Crash.