I was born with naturally straight hair that is the envy of all curly-haired people, or at least those who wish their hair was straight. My cousin envies my hair, and more than once did she tell me that had she been given a hair texture like mine, she would have been a beauty salon frequenter. I don’t fuss about my hair that much, maybe because it doesn’t need the fussing. Aside from shampoo and conditioner, I do not let any other product touch my hair. I go for the local brands with my hair care products because I’ve tried the imported ones and they dried my hair out. The only service I avail of when I go to a salon is a hair cut. Until the day I woke up and decided I wanted a perm.
I’ve had a perm before, when I was 8 years old. My mom liked it so much she endlessly brushed my hair, of course it went back to being straight. I was curly-haired for a good 24 hours. And the most daring I’ve gone on a haircut is a boy’s cut, Demi Moore-style, back when Ghost was the most talked about movie and her hairstyle was the hottest. So I, along with countless other girls, were sporting the same ‘do. But I rocked it the most, hahaha! My aunt played the hair stylist once, and my cousin and I were her customers, so to speak. So I had my hair coloured the deepest shade of burgundy, which I thought was cool especially when the sun shone on my hair and reflected the red. Other than those hair adventures, it was just the usual hair cut and style and colour. Until, like I mentioned earlier, I decided to have a perm.
14 March 2009. I took one long look at the mirror and memorized the face behind the straight hair. In a matter of seconds, I was rushing to David’s at The Block. You may think that I’m overreacting to a simple perm but my hair is what the experts call a ‘virgin’: it has never been subjected to the rigours of a make-over.
Receptionist: Yes ma’am? Can I help you?
Me: Hi. I want to have a perm.
Receptionist: Do you have a previous stylist?
Me: None. It’s my first time in your salon.
Naturally, they gave me the highest-paid stylist. I’ve learned my lesson: pick the lowest-paid stylist and act like you’re long-lost buddies. Anyway, he, the one with the big bucks, came waltzing to the reception desk and asked me what kind of perm I wanted. Huh? There’s perm and then there’s digital perm. Well, I just wanted to have these big curls that fall sexily over my shoulders and back. Let’s do the digital perm, he says. Right on.
Digital perm, I soon learned, will subject your hair to the usual routine of getting a perm. The only thing new are these wires which are sort of plugged into your hair. I felt like I was in the movie Matrix, expecting Keanu Reeves to walk in anytime and in his trademark voice ask: What is the Matrix? Overkill. Minutes later, your hair literally smokes, but you’re protected from the heat by this foam they strategically put on your neck and face. After minutes (or was that an hour? I lost track) of smoking hair, a neutralizer is then sprayed all over your rolls. This time, to avoid the medicine pouring on your designer shirt, they stick a portable sink into your neck. I felt like Queen Amidala of the Star Wars fame. Ok, this does not bode well. Twice now, I felt like I was in science-fiction movies. Does this mean my hair is gonna look science-fiction freaky? I dared not think. When the assistant decided that the smell couldn’t get strong enough with the whole bottle poured over my hair, she rinsed it. Super-stylist then came over and blow dried my hair, tossing it with careless abandon until….the curls fell seductively over my shoulders and back. I am now a fan of digital perm.
This is the machine they used for the perm. Googled it:
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