Hair Gone Wild

Hi, guys. :)
It's me, Cori.

p.s. - oktoberfest.. best known for:
feeding people ginormous pretzels since the beginning of time :)

This will be fun [for you moreso than me]. I'm fairly certain I'll take some heat for it, but history is history, and I can't change it; why then deny it, right? Haha.

ANYWHO:

yes, please.

While we were all sitting at lunch yesterday [after the moments of food-induced {in this case, Olive Garden breadsticks} silence that blankets a table of Baptists at the exact moment the food lands on it {don't act like you don't know}], we somehow brushed across the topic of our individual styles way back in the day. I love these conversations mostly because my imagination is excellent at fabricating the what-if from it, which is probably just as hilarious as what it actually was. For me, my hair is certainly one of those markers that I consider accurately indicative of what stage of life I was experiencing.

Here's the Hair Tale:



curly kiddie locks :)

I'm a hybrid Spanish and Filipino, so I had naturally curly hair when I was a youngster. It was usually tamed out with simple blowdrying, but yeah. Couple that up with a perm, and a haircut that landed right below my ears, and you had me, lanky, brace-face with poodle hair. Holler. Sorry folks, I don't have photo-documentation of that part, for many reasons. Just imagine it :). 

oh, junior miss pageant days.



cori & emily.
a stellar picture, altogether. haaa.

I grew out the curly mess eventually, and by the time I graduated high school, it was manageable. However, over the course of the four years of high school sports: track and soccer primarily, I tapped into trying different methods to keep the mess out of my face. The most conducive fix had to go far beyond the standard ponytail, so I wound up giving myself cornrows here and there for various sporting events. Yeah, it happened.



goin' brown!



short brown

Once high school was behind me, I ventured out on my own into the world of college. My poor hair didn't know what it was in for, but Not only did I chop it, but started in with color alteration. I didn't go overboard [at least not at first], but I certainly went a few shades lighter. I don't know why I didn't just stop there while I was ahead, but I didn't, and wound up chopping it all off again. *sigh.



a catastrophe.



Move forward a year or so, and you would've found me in the early portion of some sort of revolutionary phase and decided that my hair should be different colors. As you see, I started off with subtle caramel highlights - nothing too extreme there. Again, I should've stopped there. Here's the thing though: A lot of gals [and hey, guys, too] probably don't think dying hair is that big of a deal, but let me remind you of something: I have black hair. For girls with black hair, obtaining blonde hair is not a good idea. I never got that memo, at least not on time. Somewhere along the line I also got some facial piercings to add to the disaster. Here's how well that worked out for me.

Riiiiight.



short, again.
[p.s. - sister, love!]

Luckily, the downward spiral that was my hair eventually picked up some positive momentum, and I returned back to something much closer to natural state. I will say this, though: if you ever go from black hair to blonde hair, it will take a .:long:. time to heal itself. *sigh. The good news is, I grew it all back out and left it alone for a good 4ish years, got married, had a baby, and then decided to donate it. Wouldn't you know I'd be the one to chop 14 inches off two days before shattering my collarbone into 10 little pieces. Anyone with short hair can tell you that maintenance of short hair is no fun with one arm.



present day



Wellllll..

I'm sorry to disappoint you that the story pretty much ends there. I haven't done anything ridiculous since my last donation, and I'm not sure that I will again, for a very long time. As it stands now, I'm back to normal, and for the time being, I'm completely cool with that. :)

What's your story? ;)

xo | cmd