Debi Nevel Drecksler Age 2

It’s fun to be a member of a large family. I can always count on an invitation at least once every year or so, to a wedding or Bar/Bat Mitzvah, which means that occasionally I get to dig out my party dress and dancing shoes. I always wonder if my well dressed, beautifully manicured cousins ever notice that though my outfit and shoes remains the same, I manage to have a new hairdo at every special occasion.

Here’s how it all started. Years ago, I went through my “I want long straight hair” stage. This is a nearly impossible mission for a gal whose hair frizzes up at a forecast of humid weather. Before hair straightening irons, I used a book and a clothes iron to attain that sleek and lovely “Cher” look. Remember her?

Shortly after my marriage, I decided to learn to live with the curls and even went as far as getting a perm. I looked like a grownup version of Orphan Annie but for some weird reason, my husband found this look quite appealing!

Then, after we moved to Asheville, the city of “anything goes…we do not judge”, I cut all my hair off and spiked it. That look lasted about 10 minutes after my children demanded that Mommy grow her hair back or they were all going to “divorce” me.

Then came years of trips to dozens of beauty salons in Asheville, where no-one could figure out how to cut my “ethnic” hair. (Funny how growing up in Miami, the land of cultural diversity, no-one ever said that to me.) What followed was many years of BAD haircuts and lots of hairspray.

Several years ago, I threw in the towel and stopped getting haircuts except for occasional trims. I also dumped my hair dryer which cut my getting ready time in half. Most importantly, I stopped fighting the curls and just allowed them to do their thing. My hair grew and grew and grew!

The last Bar Mitzvah party I attended was a good hair day. My long flowing curls cascaded down the back of my ten year old (but still looking good) party dress. My favorite blond “bombshell” cousin Susan came over and announced loud enough for the waiters in the kitchen to hear, ” Oh my gawd, look at cousin Debi’s hair. It is soooooo SEXY. That’s sexy hair girl…very sexy!” I blushed the color of her third glass of wine and ran into the bathroom to see what all the fuss was about!

And…lo and behold!! There it was staring right back out me…A head full of perfect curls,the BEST hairdo in the history of family events. I was in my glory!!

I wonder if anyone noticed how Debi, the red-headed cousin from Asheville was smiling from ear to ear in every photo at the Bar Mitzvah of 2009?!

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