Entries Tagged 'Hairy Issues (fashion, hair, clothes)' ↓

Dear TGR,

I’m a red head. I hate my hair — now here’s why.

Kids are cruel. They make fun of the littlest things — like the color of your hair. And you act like you don’t care — but when you get to highschool you really start to care again. It’s not fun when you can blind people because your hair is so shiny — there’s not much fun about being a red head actually …  And then there’s the pale skin that usually comes along with it — and all the freckles. You grow up thinking you’re not pretty. That you’re a freak. And personally I wish that when I have kids — they don’t have my “curse” as I call it. I don’t want them to be “gingers” or “fire crotches.” It’s not fun. I can understand why other girls wouldn’t want to be red. Sometimes I wish that people would notice me for more than just my hair — especially when that’s my least favorite thing about myself. But that’s all people notice. It’s annoying. And guys do like it — but that just means they’re looking at your physical body and not your heart.
I don’t want to be a “Ginger” anymore. In fact I NEVER wanted to be a “ginger”

Rather Be Marianne

Dear Rather Be Marianne, 

I’m going to give it to you straight. This is a problem you have the power to solve through chemicals.

You have a few choices here. You could go Blond or Auburn. Blond will likely be more expensive and require diligent maintenance, Auburn you can achieve by popping into your local drugstore or Walmart and choosing the color that screams your name for under $10. Google images of Nicole Kidman and see all the variations of Strawberry and Blonde and Auburn she’s done and figure out what you’d like to try first, you are free to change your mind at any time.

If you choose Auburn, follow the instructions closely and do the strand test (seriously, I know people who have had their hair fry off, including myself). With Auburn your red roots will grow out nicely and you won’t have to touch them up as often. You can do touchups yourself at home and it will be pretty affordable to maintain with hair color from the drug store. Auburn has a red undertone so, it will compliment your natural skin tones nicely. 

If you choose to go blond, it will be more expensive to have done and require more maintenance because your roots will be more noticeable. Go to a medium-pricey salon. (Do not trust Walmart or Cost Cutters or you will likely beg for your lovely Ginger Mane back.) Tell them you, like Nicole Kidman who was also a natural redhead, now prefer to be a blond. Don’t go Barbie Platinum Blond, ease into it subtly to avoid more teasing. Think about starting with a light Strawberry Blond and remember you can always go lighter or darker after a few weeks if you don’t like the results. Take photos with you to the salon. Try a new cut with your color (the cut is free with a color so you might as well).

Be prepared, for this will be about maintaining blond hair every six to eight weeks — so you’ll need to get a job if you’re parents can’t afford it or aren’t willing to make the sacrifice. A good hair color will run around $60 -$100. Don’t do this yourself the first time. (Maybe after you’ve had great success several times and you feel like you’ve gotten the hang of it you can try touchups yourself.) But, if you hate being a Ginger as much as you say you do — well, I bet you’ll think the cost is worth it.

As to your alabaster skin, try a self-tanner. I recommend TGR Body’s Sun-Kissed Body and Sun-Kissed Face for a natural, organic tan all year long. 

Good Luck to you Rather Be Marianne! Let me know how it goes. 

Tracee, The Girl Revolution

“Half the 4th Grade girls have boobs and wear bras,” Ainsley reported.

“Really? Like, for real?” I asked, stunned because no one had boobs until like the 7th Grade when I was in school. “Like they really need bras?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, give me five!” I said, holding my hand out.

“Why would I give you five?” she asked

“It’s better not to be the first one to get boobs in the 4th Grade, believe me,” I informed her.

“Well, I don’t want to be the only girl without boobs,” she said.

“You’re not. You said half the class. That means half the class doesn’t have boobs.” I said.

“They are having a Bra Club. You have to have boobs to be in the club,” she reported.

“Well. Go get ready for soccer,” I said.

A few days later, as I was getting ready for bed she came into the bathroom.

“Mom? When can I shave my legs?” she asked.

“When you’re 12,” I said, because this was when I had been allowed to shave my legs and so obviously, this is the right and appropriate answer.

“All the kids make fun of my hairy legs!” she exclaimed.

“Who does?” I asked, wondering if she just uses this line because I tend to fall for it a lot.

“Sarah and the kids at soccer and when I wear shorts at school,” she claimed.

“Ainsley, shaving your legs is a real pain in the butt. Once you start your hair grows back in all stubbly and scratchy and black, it doesn’t grow back in all soft and downy like your hair is now. I’m not kidding, it’s a massive pain in the butt and you have to shave like everyday. That’s why I don’t think you should do it yet,” I explained reasonably.

“I don’t care. I don’t want all the kids making fun of me. Look at this hair! It’s embarrassing!” she yelled, showing me her admittedly hairy legs.

I looked down and rubbed her hairy legs and wondered how the hair would grow back in if we just used Nair rather than shaving them for a few years. Would they grow back in stubbly and black then?

“Go to bed Ainsley. It’s late,” I told her.

“Fine! I’ll just have everyone make fun of me and go to school embarrassed and play soccer in shorts embarrassed! You don’t care!” she yelled and slammed the door to her room.

I sighed and went to her room. I really am a sucker for the teasing and embarrassed thing,I thought as I opened her door and said into the dark, “Maybe we’ll try Nair this weekend and see what happens.”

“What’s Nair?” she asked.

“It’s this cream that dissolves hair. I don’t know how it will grow back in. But, we can try it and see,” I said.

“Okay. Thank you,” she said.

“Good night. I love you,” I said.

I shut the door. Is there really any reason that 10-year-olds were required to have hairy legs if it embarrasses them, I wondered. Is there some rule that says it has to be 12? I wonder when other parents let their kids shave their legs? 4th Grade sure isn’t what it used to be, it got a hell of a lot more complicated. 

Grow out your bush in solidarity with your pubescent daughter.

Then you can say, “Everybody gets pubic hair. It’s natural, normal and beautiful.” And mean it.

I was, honestly, so proud of my soft chocolate-and-gold-tinted triangle.

Until a boyfriend mentioned he preferred it groomed another way. Then another boyfriend mentioned he like it groomed further. Then a certain someone said, the Brazillian wax really turned him on.

Oh the pain. The pain! The mother-bleeping pain.

Of course, everyone of those f#$5ers had hairy balls and some even had a hairy back. Which. Is. Not. Hot.

That said, I realize it won’t be the dead of winter forever and that swimwear doesn’t fashionably go to mid-thigh. So, something must be done about the dreaded, nuisance of the bikini line. That day, is coming for my daughter too.

I feel conflicted about this. Should I advise her to go for the chemical acid burn of a hair removal cream, the ingrown hairs and razor burn or just ruin her childhood and adolescence and all her previously romantic notions about femininity by introducing her to genital waxing?

If anyone on this planet has a non-barbaric, non-painful, non-chemical-acid-burn-causing, preferably natural and painless solution to the blasted bikini-line dilemma, please email me. I’m determined to find an agreeable solution for my daughter and yours. I’ll put it on TGR Body.

I walk into my BFF Jenny’s house (Yes, the fabulous Jenny, owner of Ms. Sparrow’s Holistic Cleaning Co.), she turns from the delectable tomato soup she’s stirring for our girls night and says,

You’re rockin’ the vagina today with that necklace and the cowl neck T.S.

I think I love this outfit even more now, but I’ll never be able to wear it again without laughing my ass off and thinking “vagina” every time I speak to someone. Which might be kind of fun, actually.

Zack is a Flying Dragon, Ainsley is a Vampire, I am Dorothy Parker.

Truth be told, I bought the kids’ costumes, not because I’m lazy as some have suggested, but because I am busy and tired. Also, to please them, my children. They wanted these particular costumes from stores and I didn’t want to exert the energy to fight with them or make them costumes “like these” that would take me hours and dollars more than I spent.

My costume, however, comprised of stuff I already had in my closet.

Halloween in our new ‘hood was fun with our new neighbors.