Hair Goal

The other day my somewhat surgically enhanced, yet attractive, blond, neighbor pulls up in her Lincoln continental to take my son and me to the mall.  She had recently overheard my 5-year old asks me, “What is a mall?” In her shock, she felt the urge to introduce him to this cultural phenomenon.  You just can’t be a kid in America without going to the mall!  Since my son had never grown up in the US malls weren’t common, she felt it necessary to lead him on this pilgrimage.

As we pull away from the curb, I adjust my seatbelt while pushing over old, empty Starbucks cups, most certainly skinny lattes with extra foam.  I turn and thank my new friend for taking us on this excursion.   She gives me a “no problem, my pleasure” type nod. This typical, LA-styled suburban mom, sporting the latest Oliver People sunglasses then turns to me and asks out of the blue, while looking at my coif, “What is your hair goal?” I glance at her and notice there is no hint of a smile coming from her super, enhanced-pouty, red lips nor can I read her face as it’s numbed from the extra Botox sessions. Hmmm, ummm, a hair goal, what’s wrong with my hair?  Goals are good, but a hair goal?  This was never a question I’d heard of other than from a person holding scissors?  Was I having my own “what is a Mall?” cultural awakening?

I shrugged and answered, I don’t know?  I received a blank stare.  It felt like I had just announced to the freshman college, geek squad I had an undecided major.  I’m not plain or ugly nor am I anti-make-up.  I love the hope in a jar promising 20-years younger smiles.  I believe in it.

I found myself thinking about this question far beyond our trip to the mall. I was questioning my hairstyle.  Why did she say she could straighten it when my natural hair is curly?  Do I need strive to look like an unnatural, Hollywood Star? Was this the goal or is it just an LA-state of mind? The mall trip came and went, however, all these questions occupied my mind as we drove to a housewarming party later that evening.

Once at the party, discussions flew around about art, who is doing what, the coolest furniture out there, the best shows to see…. cultural discussions.  It was refreshing, yet, when asked how I was adjusting to Los Angeles after living 6 years in Tokyo and Milano, the Hair Goal topic came up.  At first, we all got a laugh about it. Some wondered if they should just start from scratch “a la” Sinead O’Connor.  Some had no choice, they were already doomed to their mother’s grandfather, or fathers or whoever carried the “bald” genes.  We did all agree that there is a point where you have to decide between your ass and your face… but also your hair.  In the end a very confident, plain, understated, anesthesiologist grabbed for another yummy egg roll, with his mouth half full he told us he sees hundreds of these types of patients every day and that once you start changing yourself and searching for the fountain of youth or supermodel remedy, you will just lose an uphill battle, or a downhill one, if you take gravity into play.  But by the next bite of his hors d’oeuvres he said, but next week I’m having hair implants done.  We all laughed.  So maybe, in the end, it is all about the “hair goal”.