Velcro rollers make my hair curl
Velcro rollers were a hit long before I bought some. I drove to Sally’s Beauty Supply and spotted them immediately, hanging on hooks in colors I’d call “Pepto Bismol,” “Sky Blue,” and in honor of my beloved home town of Beaumont, “The Purples.” I went for the Sky Blues, about 20, the majority of which, in size, seemed shy of a 28-ounce can of tomatoes.
With my kind of hair, which my husband calls “horse hair,” there’s one big advantage. Because it is, “coarse,” I don’t have to wash it often. But there’s another advantage. One that I wouldn’t fully appreciate until after the purchase of the Sky Blues.
The Velcro’s lay in my drawer for weeks before finally, I brought them out for their virgin voyage. We’d been invited to a black -tie rehearsal dinner, so it seemed a good occasion to put the Sky Blues in and see what they could do. Midway through the application, I worried that 20 weren’t enough so towards the end, I gathered up one last clump of hair at the back of my head and said, “Voila – Velcro City.”
When I viewed the finished work in the mirror, O’s were everywhere. My head, seemingly twice it’s normal size, looked like a combination astronaut and something I’d seen at the Southeast Texas Fair.
I was still musing about this when the phone rang. Wearing my new helmet, I answered holding the receiver a foot away but I could hear my husband on the other end saying hurriedly, “I’m running late so just meet me out front and I’ll pick you up.”
Visiting Velcro City, I’d lost track of time. I dashed back into the bathroom and began peeling Velcro’s with a vengeance — both arms moving in rapid circular motion as if I were ground crew.
All out – the end result looked pretty good. So good, I thought, “Why bother with a brush?” With the sound of a car horn, I took one last look in the mirror and declared, “Done.” I swiped my earrings from the counter and scurried out the door, leaving behind a bathroom strewn with Velcro’s like fallen apples from a tree.
We entered the main dining room at the River Oaks Country Club — my husband looked handsome in black tie while I looked definitely different in bouncing hair. The room, filled with soft light and fragrant flowers, was beautiful and it grew with love and laughter as the evening went on. I’d planned on giving a toast but since my husband had stood and given one earlier and so many, seemingly, yet to come, I thought, "Better pass."
Good thing I did.
We got home and as our ritual usually went – my husband lit a cigar and took “Buster” out for one last walk. Meanwhile, I stood at the bathroom lavatory reaching up to put a clip in my hair when something strange brushed across my hand. Instinctively, I reached around further and felt something protruding from the back of my head like an old TV picture tube.
Covered with horsehair however, it was still indiscernible. I probed deeper with my finger tips wondering, “What in the world…” when suddenly, it hit me so hard I almost swallowed my tongue.
“OH – MY – GOD!” I exclaimed to the mirror, my eyes looking as big as the Velcro felt. I dropped my hands and froze, feeling a pain in the pit of stomach inflate like a balloon.
Embarrassed wasn’t the word. The worse part was thinking about my husband – how I’d humiliated him. We’d just shared a meal with one hundred plus friends, colleagues and some clients – mostly his! What was he going to say when he learned that I’d worn a Sky Blue, tomato can-sized Velcro roller all evening? How was I going to tell him? My fear descended into a new found depth of dread.
As soon as I heard the front door slam I called out, “Honey, would you come up? I need to show you somethin’.”
Hearing the anxiety in my voice, he came up right away and stood at our bedroom doorway still holding his cigar.
“What is it?” he asked, looking concerned.
I stood across the room and faced him square. “P, I’m not gonna tell you – I’m just gonna show you what I’ve done.”
With trepidation, I turned around slowly and stood silent.
And God love him, this is eggs-zactly what he said, “Oh I wouldn’t worry about it honey. Your hair’s so thick I bet nobody even saw it…and if they did, knowing you Katiebelle they probably just think it’s some new style or somethin’ and all start wearin’ Velcro’s.”
The pain in my stomach dissipated like water into sand.
Thank heaven for horsehair and loving husbands.