"Light of my life," I smiled, “I have given that subject considerable thought, and you will kindly note that as I remove this hair, I slightly resemble a shaggy dog." A very short time later my hair was pinned up and I was under a portable dryer. As Judy combed it out and styled it, she chatted enthusiastically about what she was going to do with my hair when it became longer. She said she hadn't noticed my hair growing because I wore a wig all the time except when in bed. When she finished, she said, "Why don't you wear it that way tonight?" I looked in the mirror. I was amazed at what she had done with it although still quite short, she had styled it in a becomingly feminine style. I looked at it from all angles, then thanked her warmly. "Only one thing, Honey," I said, "this is my blonde week." She smiled, but didn't say anything.
I sat there admiring my new hair-do, until she called from the living room, "I have to go down town. See you later." She was back in less than an hour. She laughed as she hung up her coat and said, "Bring these packages into the kitchen for me, Sweetie, I have a surprise for you." I took them into the kitchen and she said, "Sit down here, Honey, I'm going to make you a blonde." I smiled and sat down and she wrapped a towel around my shoulders. "First," she said, "a nice, tight permanent to give your hair additional body and the bleaching compound will take out the real tight curls." I winced and complained a time ot two as she wound my hair a little too tight.
When the curlers were removed, she rinsed the waving fluid out and the cool, foaming bleach was put on. It had been on over thirty minutes when I commented that one spot was starting to sting. She jumped up and took me over to the sink and washed out the foam, then shampooed me. An hour later I looked in the mirror again and almost cried. My hair was done in the same style as before, but now it was a shining, silvery blonde crown on my head. I looked and looked at it for a long time. It was so beautiful I couldn't find the words to thank her appropriately, so I gave her a long tender kiss and a simple "Thank you, Sweetheart. I love it."
"You're welcome, Honey," she said, "do you really like it?"
"I think it's the most beautiful head of hair I've ever seen yours," I replied.
except
I made several trips to the mirror before I started dressing for the Club. I would look at my blondness and I would feel blonde. A blonde wig was still a wig and when removed you felt like another person. This hair was
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