A catalog of the stuff in my apartment
My hairstylist seems to understand very little of what I say, presumably due to a language barrier. The last time I was in his chair at the salon, I asked him how many haircuts he does in a typical day, and his answer was “Sabrina.” During my previous visit, I thought we had made progress. […]
I shampoo my hair every two to three days. I used to wash it daily but then someone convinced me that was too much. Apparently I was putting my hair at risk of becoming dry and brittle. My hairstylist at the time and several other anti-‘poo proselytizers made the case for infrequent washing, but the […]
I was born in August 1979, so all but the first four months of my first decade on earth were spent in the 1980s. Consequently, I have nostalgic feelings for hairspray. The same goes for the Smurfs and anti-Soviet sentiment. I recall two notable encounters with the latter attitude during my prepubescent years. When I […]
I didn’t start putting styling products in my hair until the summer after my freshman year of college. The next summer I came out of the closet. Make of that what you will. Despite my hair’s gel-free condition in high school, a classmate we’ll call Elizabeth (not her real name) did turn to me one […]
Indirect Objects 