I’d noticed a woman on the bus that I get to work when I’m doing the early morning shift. She’s probably in her late 30s, if not 40, is nicely groomed, wears smart business clothes and has long hair just past her shoulders.
One day she sat in front of me and I spent the bus ride looking at her hair. The colour was nice, but it had a kind of wiry texture to it. I realised that it’s that kind of wiry hair that younger women never really seem to have. I didn’t think too much about it until a few weeks later when I was getting my hair cut.
I complained to my hairdresser that my hair had gone really strange. I’ve always had curly sections and straight sections, but now it seemed that the hair on top of my head was really straight and the hair underneath was really curly. I was expecting a simple answer like that it was colour damage or the humidity, but instead she asked me how old I was.
She explained that around the age of 30, there’s a slight hormonal change in women that, among other things, affects hair, so it was possible that that had started with me, and then she skilfully cut my hair in such a way that the textural contrasts were barely noticeable.
My theory is that your body puts time and effort into making you pretty in your teens and 20s to help snare a mate, but figures that you’ve probably got one by the time you reach your 30s, so it can concentrate on other things.
Suddenly it all made sense. The lady on the bus probably had really lovely silky tresses when she was younger. She probably refused to give up her hair style, even though it was all wiry and pubic-textured.
It’s a little bit sad thinking that maybe I’ll never quite have the same hair that I used to have, but now that I know this little piece of information, I can avoid being an old lady with scraggly long hair.