For when you don’t want to look like Jim Halpert or Gossamer (you know–the red monster in Looney Tunes cartoons).

It’s time. Let’s do this.

As I’ve mentioned previously, I was blessed at birth with a luxuriously full head of Great Pyrenees-like hair.  Or, rather, I was born with a sprinkling of hair that  fell out promptly, leaving me completely bald for my first year of life.  If only I’d known then what I know now, I would have appreciated that bald head. I’d have appreciated the hell out of it.  However, then, once my hair grew back, I was blessed with a luxuriously full head of hair.

Below, you can see me at the tender age of five, kissing a steer on my grandparents’ farm.

Missy kisses a steer enthusiastically.

Missy and her hair kiss a steer enthusiastically.

If you can tear your eyes away from the handsome steer (I obviously couldn’t), you might notice my hair–thick but fine, sleek, swingy . . . and then a few years passed, and my poor young body and hair follicles were attacked by those two bitches, estrogen and progesterone.  And this happened:

Missy's Hair, 1990


You can see the problem.

So, in college, I cut most of it off.

Missy and Beth

Missy with her friend, Beth, who had also cut off most of her hair at the same time, despite the naturally low height of her hair.

And then I cut more of it off.

Missy with hair that some small-minded people might consider too short for her prodigious head.

Missy with hair that some small-minded people might consider too short for her prodigious head.

I think you can tell by the Albert Einstein poster hanging on the wall behind me in the above picture that I was, perhaps, overly sure of myself and my place in the world, which is, perhaps, why I felt comfortable requesting a haircut that would turn out to be exactly like Jim’s haircut on The Office.

Jim Halpert

Jim with my hair

So, several more years passed (like, 10 years–I’m a late bloomer), and I finally discovered the joys of a professional-grade hair straightening iron.  I made this discovery when I ordered a $7 bottle of hair color corrector from a hair care supply company, and they sent me a $120 hair straightening iron, instead.  :andIkeptit:

Obviously, this was horrible and wrong (even though it felt so right), but I didn’t, at first, intend to keep it.  I DID intend to try it before sending it back, which was wrong, also, but the siren song of straight, silky tresses was too strong for me to resist.  Some people find it hard to resist the gummy, cracked glass of a germ-infested crack pipe; I found it hard to resist the opportunity to have straight, smooth hair.

Someone (i.e., my mother) probably has a picture of me from that glorious time, but I don’t.  And, really, a hair straightening iron is only as good as the person’s haircut allows it to be, and I had HORRIBLE haircuts–HORRIBLE–for most of my life, until right after Ted was born, and I found Carly.  I went from this hair (while pregnant):

Mostly straightened hair, bad haircut.  Excuse the preeclampsia.

Mostly straightened hair, bad haircut. (Excuse the preeclampsia.) (If you’re jealous of the Jell-O cake, you should be.)

To this hair, two months later:

Cheesy selfie, post-haircut

My first haircut, color, and styling via Carly.

You’ll have to excuse the cheesy nature of the above post-haircut selfie; I’d never had such straight and silky hair before, and I was still full of baby hormones that made me very emotional about things like haircuts. And bologna.

So, when I first started going to Carly, she used that most popular of hair straightening irons, the Chi hair straightening iron, pictured below:

Chi Hair Straightening Iron

The Chi hair straightening iron, the tool that changed my life. That and my cordless drill.

The hair straightening iron I had been “borrowing” for a few years at that point was NOT a Chi, but I decided to buy a Chi after visiting Carly a few times because it just did a better job.  Ceramic plates work better than stainless steel plates on straightening irons, in my opinion.  I could discuss how wonderful the Chi is, but I think it would be more effective if I illustrated my point with pictures, instead.


No, I’m not easily embarrassed. Why do you ask?



And these:


Hi there.

(If my hair in the picture above reminds you of Gossamer from the Looney Tunes cartoons, well, then, I consider that a compliment.)

Missy and Carly

Carly and I

To this:


Not quite as exciting but also not quite as inspirational for young bullies at the grocery store, which I consider a plus.

Lots of people I know continue to buy the hair straightening irons they can find at places like Wal-Mart or Target for $20.  Let me emphasize this point as strongly as I can:  they  do. not. work.  They don’t work!  If you, like me, have enthusiastic hair, I encourage you to save your pennies until you can afford to purchase a Chi or one of the other professional-grade straightening irons.  You won’t be mistaken for a Bugs Bunny character, anymore, which is disappointing, but you WILL be able to go outside when the relative humidity is above 15 percent.  Life is about compromise, people.  And stealing hair straightening irons.

One thought on “For when you don’t want to look like Jim Halpert or Gossamer (you know–the red monster in Looney Tunes cartoons).

  1. Pingback: For when you want to exercise without falling off the toilet. | Reviews of a super-consumer

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