I have survived many hair crises. Some of the most notable include:
In 8th grade when my highlights went horribly wrong. The roots turned orange. Like really orange. But my mother, being the dutiful parent she is, kept me home from school the next day so we could go to a different salon to repair the damage. It took all day and a few unwelcome lowlights, but I emerged relatively unscathed.
Also in 8th grade (it was a tough year for me), I had a Japanese straightening process, which made a lot of my hair break off. But the fun really began when it grew out and half of my head was curly and the other half a straight, fried mess. Ugh.
Summer after 9th grade while I was a counselor at summer camp, a really weird waxy thing happened to the roots of my hair. My mom (again, god bless her!) overnighted me some ultra purifying shampoo, and my BFF Sarah Head helped me shampoo my hair for like an hour. This event lives in infamy as “that weird thing that happened to Sarah’s hair.”
Senior year for prom, I went and got my hair did because my junior year prom up-do was BEAUTIFUL. Unfortunately, the second time around was a catastrophe. I wore the ‘do all through dinner and the dance, but on the Fur Bus ride home (you heard me right), I took out all the bobby pins and combed through the tangled, hair-sprayed mess.
I thought the worst was behind me.
I was wrong.
You may recall a hilarious/frantic email that I sent my parents a couple months ago. Over the summer my hair slowly began to rebel against me. Maybe it’s because I’ve been bleaching it since 7th grade, but by August my hair was FRIED. Like so dry and gross and unmanageable—I get stressed out even thinking about it.
But because I don’t got no monies, I wasn’t able to buy something to make my hairs happy. Finally, a few weeks ago I got a trim and my roots did, which definitely helped. But yesterday, I broke down and bought some product to an end to the madness.
I got this Ojon Damage Reverse Set and Restorative Smoothing Glaze from Sephora. Tried it out last night, and so far so good! My poor little hairs aren’t back to feeling 100%, but we’re certainly on the right track. Give me a week using all this yummy, oily product, and my locks will back to their 11th grade prom glory!
This is a purely hypothetical post. I’m just saying there may exist in NYC some poor girl who desperately needs to do laundry but doesn’t have any dollas. This would be my advice to her.
So let’s set this hypothetical scene, shall we?
It’s the end of the month. Rent is due. Utilities are due. Netflix bill is due. Gym membership is due. And your most recent Whole Foods visit has eaten through the last scrap of your paycheck. You tried to sell some magical free cupcakes that you got only a week earlier, but no one wanted them because they were “spoiled” or something. You are po fa sho.
Let’s also say that you should have done laundry last week, but there was freaking hurricane (!), and the laundromat was closed all weekend. Now it’s Monday and your closet is a pathetic mosaic of your wardrobe “leftovers.”
What’s a gal to do?
Be strategic with your undies. We all know certain outfits require certain underthings. And when your panty supply is dangerously low, you must conserve. If you’re down to the bright green polka dot ones and only have a white sundress to wear that day—sweetie, you’re screwed.
Opt for dresses if you can. Matching is tricky when your closet is bare. You cannot be trusted.
Compensate with makeup and hair. Since you outfit will likely resemble your first attempts to dress yourself circa Kindergarten, use your makeup and hair as a distraction. Wake up a few minutes early to put on a proper face and take a flat iron to your hair. It can’t hurt.
When these tips no longer succeed in making you look like a functioning member of society, it’s time to do laundry already. Make a cardboard sign explaining your situation and work the sidewalk for a few hours. You’re bound to get enough change for one load. Maybe smudge some dirt on your face or borrow a small child for a little bit to seem more sympathetic. Or if you’re musically talented, join a subway mariachi band and watch the quarters roll in.