If I had to choose five words to describe my hair, they might be: brown, wavy, greying, thick, and stubborn.
My hair has a definite mind and will of its own. It will not be tamed. I've always envied those women who have tidy hair. My hair is never tidy. Never. My hair will not be coaxed into straightness ... nor will it be coaxed to curl. I can use as many curling irons, gels, hairsprays, and other tools of the hair trade as I like. They help not at all. My hair will do as it likes and will not be convinced to bend to anyone else's will. My hair is slave to no one, not even me.
As a result, I always look as if I've just recently emerged from a wind tunnel.
When the weather is stormy, I almost always think of Medusa, as my hair comes completely alive, striking out at random passersby with a vengeful anger I myself cannot understand. One of my old boyfriends said that I had vorpal hair. When the weather was windy, he often recited, "Her vorpal hair went snicker-snack!"
I taught myself to french braid my own hair while I was living in Scotland, because I became tired of having chunks of my hair torn out when they became entangled in the coat buttons of other people walking the opposite direction on the Loch Bridge or in the shopping centre. I also noticed that my hair had a very bad habit of aiming for other folks' faces and lashing them quite mercilessly. Very rude.
But even a french braid cannot fully control or contain my hair. Even if I pull my hair into a ponytail, bun, or french braid, tiny tendrils work their way free almost immediately as if to mock my attempts at neatness. I end up with a halo of the most determined hairs, waving hardily about my head.
My hair is also extremely strong and healthy. I get it trimmed every few years, sometimes only every 6 or 7 years (when I'm really letting it run footloose and fancy free). Whenever I tell a stylist how long it's been since my previous trim, she clucks her tongue and shakes her head and informs me that I'll have terrible split ends. But they are always surprised, because I never do. And when I do those strength tests, stretching a hair to see how resilient it is, my hair always performs spectacularly.
I'm quite certain that my hair has its own -- possibly evil -- agenda. Someday, it is going to take over the world.