Yesterday Mama and I ventured into the boutique at the Cancer Center for the first time. It was time to face my fear. What wig would possibly look decent on top of my Dopey bald head?
Answer? Ummm, not many. The wigs that look so cute on the styrofoam head-lets sat on the top of my head like a bad toupe. Seriously. I think those styrofoam head-lets were modeled from five year olds. Very disconcerting.
Many of the wigs I tried on that had cute cuts really made me look like a large woman in a Mickey Mouse t-shirt, the kind of woman that shouldn't have short hair OR be wearing that t-shirt. Cruel, but true.
That cute cut just got lost on the volume of my head. I might have even been the original model for the bowling ball, I don't know.
We found one that made me sort of happy but I had that gut feeling about it. It was "ok" but not great. Of course, my mother loved it. We have always had "hair wars" since I was little so I was growing even more suspicious by the minute.
You see, my mother is blessed with this beautiful hair. It has always been gorgeous, she has always worn it in a certain style, which suits her well. It is just that that style doesn't suit me as well. But it is hard to explain that. This wig closely resembled her style and I KNEW my other two hair critics, Katie and MK, were going to say.
There were no words. Only looks.
The wig is being returned today.