The Hair I Wear

Sometimes


It's Party-Girl Pink;



Other times,




It's Columbia Matter's Length.



And then there are times,




When I just want to cover up.





Seeking a (semi) professional opinion, I phoned my sister Stephanie for styling advice. She has worn short hair since being diagnosed with breast cancer more than 16 years ago.

Stephanie shared her recipe:
hair pomade or creme
a good brush
silk scarf
hair spray
Paul Mitchell hair gel


I took mental notes:
check
check
check
check and...



"I bought something called 'Let's Jam'. Will that work?"
"The one with the bright green lid?" she asked.
"Yep, that's it." I said, retrieving the jar from beneath the bathroom sink.
"Deneitra, that's not hair gel. You can't use that on your hair." She sounded genuinely annoyed that I didn't know better.
I tried to defend myself. "Well people have complimented me on my hair."


"Keep using that product on your hair, and it will start flaking. Before you know it, you'll wind up with that Jam 'dandruff' dropping in your ear or onto your forehead. People will stare and be too embarrassed to say anything."

I knew she was correct, so I headed to the store to buy a tube of the "recommended" gel.
My actions met with approval when Stephanie responded, "there was no need to call. I knew your hair would look better."
That was Wednesday.

Thursday afternoon, I received a text from one of Stephanie's closest friends.
Ramona has worn short hair for as long as I can remember.

"Welcome to the club!" her text read.

I wrote back. "Stephanie told U, didn't she?

"U know she did! We laughed! We R still laughing @ U."

Before I could type a comeback, Ramona's next message appeared.

"I'm here with Steph now; her chemo is just starting."

I was happy to know that my sister was laughing, especially during chemo.

I guess she owes her amusement to "Let's Jam".

And I owe my good-looking hair to Stephanie.