Call Me a Wig Amateur

That wig I ordered a couple of weeks ago from The Golden Girls Wig Shop just came in, in a timely and apropos arrival. I cheerily picked it up, brought it home, tried it on, and... realized I should have spent longer wig shopping. 

Going with my husband, Mr. Patient, at the tail-end of a long afternoon of appointments at the medical center was a mistake. He was simply ready to get the h-e-double-hockey-sticks out of there, as his body language so easily told me while he paced around the tiny shop next to the pharmacy. In response, I’m afraid I made my selection a little hastily. 

Upon giving it a good look, with it now under my ownership, I became keenly aware of one rather glaring flaw: the front hung over my eyes. It's a take a on the sideswept-bang look, but I would call it more of a vision-impairing sweep.

Unlike natural hair, there is no pushing synthetic stuff to the side; no sweeping it off your forehead or tucking it behind an ear. Every strand is made to stay in exactly the original position and style. 

I'm afraid I can also tell you there is no trimming synthetic hair. Well, no trimming it by an amateur anyway - which is precisely what I am, a wig amateur. I mistakenly thought I could turn those pesky strands into shorter bangs with a few snips.

I suppose you could call what is now the visor of sticking-straight-out hair at the top of my wigged forehead “bangs” but that would be awfully generous.  

Well, Bangs-Visor, meet Bobby-Pins.

1 comment:

  1. i just have to say, its a good think you have such a pretty face!!!