It is sweltering in New York and I just left the hair salon looking devastating gorgeous for our honeymoon trip to Tulum, Mexico.
Wait for it…I have been walking the concrete jungle for 5 minutes and already my flip has flopped, my bangs have frizzed and the back of my neck is getting dirty and gritty…isn’t it a pity, doesn’t seem to be a shadow in the city.
I love that song. It describes the blight of the summertime urban guerilla so succinctly. If I live to be 100, I will forever instantly recall every lyric to, Summer In The City, by John Sebastian and the Lovin’ Spoonful.
If I close my eyes while I am rockin’ out to the summer classic, I can recall my cross country teen tour and life is good. No mortgage, menopause or cellulite.
Oh right, I have hung a Louie on the road to major digression. I was sitting in the salon chair, having my grey camouflaged…shocking, right. You would never imagine that I have a sprinkling of grey through my fabulous head of hair.
Alejandra, the Bolivian hair goddess, who reigns at Gleam Salon on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, was working her magic brush across my follicles and voila, I am whole again and looking all of 29!
The single process, which sounds singularly uncomplicated, takes approximately 2 hours and $100…the price of beauty is ever increasing.
Women are insane about their hair. We are always going to the salon for one treatment or another. We are often frustrated by the way our color turned out so we need to negotiate color corrections after spending hundreds of dollars on highlights, ombre, balayage and there are always the basics to tend to…bang trim, hair cuts, conditioning, keratin treatments.
I know life is not worth living if I am having a bad hair day. When your hair is stylin’ you feel sexy, hot and ready to rumble. Bad hair day, you reach for the Yankee cap or a paper bag.
I how that covering the grey can be performed a home, but I am hair gifted so I would be in big trouble if I undertook that process on my own. Nice ‘n easy would turn out to be hideous ‘n difficult.
Create an event, make an unknown fabulously famous, cook a gourmet dinner, climb Machu Picchu…all doable, but maintain my own head of hair, out of the question.
I am leaving on a jet plane tomorrow bound for Tulum, Mexico. During the next week I will be on hair patrol control, reaching for my Yankee cap by day, creating frizz prevention updo’s by night.
It will all work out because, after all, I will be in Mexico with my honey, hangin’ by the crystal clear blue water, reading a good book and imbibing a few cocktails. Sounds like paradise.
I would like to wish all my devilishly wonderful followers an incredible 4th of July weekend.
If the Devil Had Menopause will resume normal programming next week. Have a Fab 4th!
Flashback to 1966…take a listen to, Summer In The City. Note: rockers still dress the same and sport similar hairstyles. Love John Sebastian’s mutton chops:
