My Hairy Godmother: Everybody Needs one!

(Written for 'My Beautiful Hair Story' contest organised by Dove and Indiblogger )


Of course i haven't misspelled my title! And it does in no way refer to the amount of body hair on my godmother. Another point to be noted is that my Hairy GodMOTHER is actually a guy but i'll get to that soon.

I used to be the whiniest person ever when it came to my hair. I used to spend hours in front of the mirror cursing my existence because of the mop of ruin on my head!Thanks to my mother's wonderfully dominant genes, i was blessed (according to her) with "lovely" curly tresses. Now i assure you my hair was not in the same zip code as lovely. I had super frizzy hair that had no other go but to be tied into a pony that looked suspiciously like a horse tail hair broom!

Well i can't go blaming everything on my mother because i didn't know the first thing about hair care. I used to keep my shampoo for a long time while i thumbed through a novel and kept my conditioner on for about half a second! The result? A head full of straw! I really have no idea where i had got the knowledge about how to use shampoo and conditioner from but i also made sure i passed on this stupid bit of news to a couple of unsuspecting girl cousins. The funniest part is that no one bothered correcting me or telling me what i should actually be doing.

Utter shame! Horrid hair in a pony hidden by a pink cap :(

So i moved on with life and i reached the hallowed grounds of my 12th grade where the beauty queens were fast separated from the wallflowers. Guess which one i was? No guesses there i assure you but i have to say that i did attract quite a lot of attention from the guys! My bundle of frizziness was made into a battleground into which those devils launched paper rockets, bits of chalk, erasers, pencil stubs and paper balls...i had a hell of a time brushing everything out of my hair after school! The bets were: Rs. 50 if it sticks up in the hair and Rs. 100 if it goes into my hair. I can tell you without a doubt that a lot of money was made everyday!
I was hurt and depressed because i see girls leaving loose gorgeous waves and shiny sleek straight hair and bouncing it in everyone's face where i was stuck with the names: "Chakiri thala" meaning "Coconut husk head" and "bottle brush"!
Life was soooo unfair! This went on all the way through Degree and my Post grad where i was dubbed "The girl with the frizzy hair". Though i blossomed into a talkative and friendly person, my hair kept giving me confidence issues.

Years passed and I moved to Chennai to work with a reputed newspaper. There appearances meant everything and in i walked with a total mallu (lingo for malayali) look. Hair all brushed and braided and oh boy! I was so not pleased. For more than half a year i was yet again referred to by my colleagues as "The girl with the braided frizzy hair"! Quite honestly i had never had a fashionable haircut my entire life. If at all i desperately begged for one, my mother would take me to a local beauty parlour and have the scissors sweep a straight cut through my hair. No pre wash, layers or mousse here! Now that i was free to make my own decisions, i started enquiring about reputed salons around my work area and that's when "Studio Profile" surfaced. Right then, the hippest, coolest joint and i had my colleague (A regular at Studio profile and yes with ultra glossy hair) fix an appointment for me.
I was nervous because hey this was the first time i would be at the mercy of a true professional. I entered the salon and had a short conversation with the receptionist who asked me about my hair and what i required and i wanted the end result to be. I almost bawled and asked her to make my frizzy lumps into a mane of beauty. I guess they have had quite a few bawling clients because she wasn't affected at all by my outburst.
"So...curly hair...hmmm....we have just the person for you...RAP!"
And in walked my Hairy Godmother! He had his straight brown hair cut into an emo style, wore low rise studded jeans and orange converse (yes! i still remember the colour). In his wand hand he clutched a pair of gleaming scissors and he looked me up and down, stopped and surveyed my mess of hair. A smile broke on his face and he said "No problem!"

Thus began an excruciating 2 hours where he scrubbed and bubbled and creamed my hair out of more than a lifetime of disdain all the while happily chatting me up about the latest fashions and trends in hair! For some reason he faced me away from the mirror whilst he cut my hair. I saw wisps and tendrils and curls fall all around me and i kept my eyes screwed shut wondering if i had made a mistake after all!
A final blow dry and a bit of light mousse and a dash of hair spray and "DONE!" my godmother exclaimed!
He swivelled my chair around and out popped from the mirror a girl with gorgeous, glossy, bouncy thick curls accompanied by astonished eyes and a HUGE smile! He set down his scissors (which i still call his magic wand). I almost burst into tears! For the first time i could "Leave your hair loose" Rap said reading my mind and that was the end of my hair problems! I floated out of the salon.

Me in the middle with my super new, extra special hairy godmother cut! 

The reaction at office the next day was one of utter amazement and shock! Girls and guys alike swarmed around me touching my hair, weighing it on their fingers and wishing they had the same luscious locks and since then i was referred to as "the girl with the beautiful curls!" Thank you Rap, my Hairy Godmother i am definitely indebted to you for life!

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