Small Victories, Part II

My husbeast hates buns. The kind you put in your hair, I mean. French rolls and Gibson tucks are okay. But not buns. He calls them "librarian buns" and states adamantly that they are "ass-ugly". My hair is a bit below shoulder length and weighs roughly 12 pounds. I also live in a city that was built on a swamp, and we have some hot, hella-humid summers. Having my hair down is like wearing a mohair hood. You see my problem.

Now, while I will take Stash's opinion into account, I'm hardly going to suffer heat stroke to please his odd perceptions of beauty. Last weekend we went to my father-in-law's to help him sort through 30 years' worth of stuff and make some room in his house. I knew it was going to be hot in there, so I put my hair in - gasp! - a messy bun. Guess what? Stash liked it.

It seems I have found the key. Tidy buns are the problem. Mine was far from it. I sprayed some homemade curl refresher on second day hair, diffused a tiny bit, then gathered and twisted it loosely, holding it in place with Goody Spin Pins (love those things). The curls near my face are shorter and fell out. I let a couple hang out and used two or three thin headbands to hold the rest back. Done.

 

I really dislike this photo, but at least you can see my awesome Marie LaVeau earrings.