Two months ago, Mother Magoo received a rather nasty haircut from her usual girl (yep, I'm calling her a girl, she looks like a tattooed 12-year-old). There's not much room to screw up since Mother Magoo has thin, short hair to begin with. Worried this may be a trend, MM sets up an appointment with our person. Next thing you know she has an amazing haircut...for a vegan-skinny, 20-year-old hipster. Not for a fuller figured senior.
Mother Magoo looks, in all seriousness, like a woman who is recovering from chemo and her hair is just starting to grow back. I'm not being mean or ironic. She literally looks that. Her hair is an inch long all around. It's awful, inappropriate and unattractive. From a distance, she looks like a man. Not stylish. Not flattering. Depressing and sad.
Did I mention she's also had a really bad go of it for the last couple of weeks? Friends being crappy, exhausting travel, knee pain, car loss, car purchasing attempts and a garage sale where her portion of the money disappeared into thin air. Oh, and she's boarding a plane tomorrow and will be gone for a week. I'd say this was the last straw, but that's come and gone. This was just being kicked while she was already down.
Into this world of misery came the brain wave: Wigs! Off we went to Glamor Beauty Supply at 40th and Telegraph.
(photo courtesy of google maps)
If you live in Oakland you have to visit this place. There are wigs for days! I never visited the wig room because I only ever needed product, but that is about to change. The room is huge. Row upon row of creepy mannequins stare at you and atop their heads are every style of hair you have ever wanted in life.
We were there for hours. It is remarkably difficult to get a "average" looking wig for a someone of Mother Magoo's coloring. "Average" means "as close to regular non-showy hair" in this case. Which is the opposite of wig philosophy as far as I can see. Wigs are much more "I look damn good." They are full and fluffy and that wasn't what we wanted since she wanted to recognize herself in the mirror. (I said she had thin hair, remember?) Also, there was a color constraint--Mother Magoo's dark auburn-y locks aren't to be had for love or money and her pink skin doesn't play well with darker/lighter colors.
Eventually we settled on a bangs-having, layered brunette for her and a choppy anime-style, blue streaked wig for me. Tried to get She Who Must Be Obeyed to model my wig, but this was the best I could do.
(Why is that dead thing touching me?)
I tried to get out of there without buying a wig, but I was entranced by the options and price ($25!!!). I love my hair, but I also love the idea of changing it up without doing any work whatsoever. Hello, new accessory!