Cover Style: Mark Williamson

It’s the crack of dawn. Because like most of the type-A go getters I am up doing all the things I’m told are necessary to win on my gerbil wheel. I’m up journaling, meditating, and attending Sculptworks with my (is she on pills or Redbull with wings? I can never tell) high on life workout buddy Becky. My turquoise swathed instructor barks at me to squeeze my booty as I listen to a Taylor Swift/Iron Maiden mashup. Not only do I want off this crazy ball; but man, in those moments, I regret not staying home. Perhaps holding my dog while drinking a bottle of chardonnay in the shower all day. Throughout all this, I carry around a seething loathing of my hair. 


Imagine the most mousey brown snooze fest mammal you have seen in a National Geographic magazine. Just looking at this beast puts you to sleep. Now, imagine it is electrocuted and super glued by a two year old to the top of a head, this is me. I am not one of the pretty birds, constantly checking themselves out in store windows. Frankly the day I leave the house without a bat in the cave is considered a win.  

So, how did I Stuart Smalley my way to acceptance?  Like Bill Murray, I used “baby steps”. 

Although my hair is very boring, I started being grateful that I had hair at all. Each time I took an inward disappointing look, I reminded myself that I could look like Jason Stathem, which would be hard to talk about at dinner parties. On a glass half full cant, I also reminded myself that I could have white or gray hair. In my mid forties I realized that that is somewhat of a Hictory (that’s Hair Victory). I could also think that the hairstyles of my youth were still in fashion, much like the star cheerleader I went to high school with, who now scans my groceries when I go back to my home town.  Thankfully I know that sparkle scrunchies don’t play well in middle age.


One positive thought led to another and soon I learned to actually spend some time with the boring beast atop my skull. As I taught myself how to blow-dry (on Bangstyle of course) and successfully style my pet, we watched House of Cards and drank coffee. This was going to be the beginning of a beautiful friendship.