Funky means fuuunky. Look it up.

I just hate the word funky when referring to hair. Funky. Fuuuuunky. Funky. Fu-u-unky. Founky. Funky. If you imagine the scene from Willy Wonka (original movie, of course) where they’re in the tunnel and the boat is getting faster and faster and faster and there is some kind of an image where a caterpillar is crawling across an eyeball then you have a fairly accurate account of what is going on in my mind when asked for funky. Unless it’s cheese or a particular dance.

In hair terms, funky is where anything pretty or pleasing to the eye is decimated by a huge iron fist of ugly. Funky is Betsy Johnson hair (now don’t argue with me here. Put that hair on anyone else and it’s like Dog the Bounty Hunter ((Should that be capitalized? Not sure….but i’ll definitely get to him in another post: “A rose is a rose?”))). Funky is Kate Gosselin. Funky is any girl on Rock of Love and by girl I mean Brett Michaels. Funky is tiger  stripes and badly done Ombre color. Funky is just, well, funky.

So please don’t ask for funky. Ask for edgy. Ask for interesting. Ask for unique. Ask for something not boring. Because if you do ask for funky, you just might get it.

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I’ve done these bangs a million and (now) one times.

Zoe Deschanel is on my friend Mac’s record label and she was in town and needed her bangs trimmed. Mac asked if I could do it and I said “Oh, yeah, no problem, whenever” and at the same time pondered what poor client was going to get swept from my chair the moment she walked in. She looked amazing, of course and was also super earnest and nice. She sat down and proceeded to explain that she usually likes them “long and a bit blunt with the ends tapered”.  I said, “I got this one. Believe me, I’ve done these bangs a million times”. She left and my next client said “I wanna look just like the girl that just left”. Image

“I’d like The Me, please”

Arrojo NYC

So Jaime and I attended the Arrojo Expo last month in NYC and as we have all at Moshi Moshi pretty much drank the whole bucket of Arrojo Kool-Aid, we were feeling pretty good. Now, I will be a fruit fly for John Simpson any day of the week and I did chat him up quite a bit. You know, the high fives, the fist bumps, the “whoot whoot’s”. Just the usual sycophanting thing that I must do when it’s absolutely necessary to procure a picture of one of my favorite Paul Lynde impersonators. Now I told him that I wanted a picture of either 1) him carrying me like a fetus or 2) me on his back. His reply: “why not both?”. Damn, I love him.Image

 “Yes, girl in the back with the frizzy brown hair? Uh huh, Reeeaaaally? Uh huh.”

All right, back to perming….

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So as I was saying…… Sorry! I just can’t get off this curly thing. What can I say? I thought I’d throw in that updo as a distraction so you wouldn’t get bored. I just wanted to talk about my hair because, after all, what is a blog unless it has a bit of self-whatever-it’s-called (where you’re into yourself and you don’t own a thesaurus). I just want to say that after years and I mean YEARS of straightening my hair I just let that thing air dry and had no idea at all what amazing beast unsurfaced. I went into a store and walked passed a tattooed girl with a perfectly flat-ironed asymmetrical a-line bob and thought that if she really wanted to be punk rock, she should try walking around with some curly-ass hair. I mean, you feel like a freak. But in a good way!

The student has now become the Master (wish I could add the soundbite to that).

Now there is nothing more intimidating than up styles, generally. But Karen has become our reigning Queen of the up style.  Mainly because she is such a damn perfectionist and became tired of sweating through her shoulder pads (which she wore UNDER her arms) every time an updo came through the door that she hunkered down on some serious Miagi-style training (you know, raking yards and card shuffling). Now, she is ichi ban numero uno! She has now left us in the dust by adding on some crazy braiding skillz. Can I get a what what?

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Give it to me….I’ll perm it!

Whew! Deciding what a first blog post should be about is like picking out a baby name. And, in saying that, I must take the advice I gave myself when coming to that final decision which was “Hell, change it later if ya want. Ya got 18 years”. So without further ado I give you the thing I am most (self)obsessed with. The Perm (should be all caps if you ask me)!

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Now, really. Is that not the best looking perm you’ve seen? I mean since Dory Previn?


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Flow it, show it Long as God can grow it My hair.

Let it fly in the breeze
And get caught in the trees
Give a home to the fleas in my hair
A home for fleas
A hive for bees
A nest for birds
There ain’t no words
For the beauty, the splendor, the wonder
Of my…
Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair
Flow it, show it
Long as God can grow it
My hair

I want it long, straight, curly, fuzzy, Snaggy, shaggy, ratty, matty,Oily, greasy, fleecy,Shining, gleaming, streamingFlaxen, waxenKnotted, polka-dottedTwisted, beaded, braidedPowdered, flowered, and confettiedBangled, tangled, spangled, and spaghettied!