A perm. I wanted one so bad back in the 80s. Luckily my hairdresser, who was my whole family’s hairdresser and a friend too, refused. She was a tiny Thai lady who was a force of nature, had a little half basement salon in DC. We would all go and get our hair cut together, I think mostly because there was a pub nearby my dad could go have drinks at while he waited for us.

I’m sure that her reasoning was sound in that it would destroy my hair, but I also think both her and my mom knew how terrible it would look since I’m lazy af and wouldn’t style it. Over the years I’ve only ever dyed my hair a handful of times, never curled or straightened it, no product as I can’t stand the feeling of it. I think it’s helped keep it healthy and now as I’m hitting later 40s and finally know how to really care for it (and have a hairdresser that understands my curls), it’s FABULOUS. Very little grey, big curls and ringlets. It’s the hair I’ve always wanted. Still don’t do shit to it lol. Lazy ftw!