One of my favorite short stories is “Bernice Bobs Her Hair,” by F. Scott Fitzgerald and published by the Saturday Evening Post in 1920. My mother was 10 at that time, and I’m not sure if she ever got a flapper hairstyle.
I’ve always loved long hair. When a salon stylist once cut my hair really short, I went home and cried for days. So, every stylist since that time has been given a threat…before we come to a complete understanding of how to measure inches on a ruler. Don’t get me wrong, I really like short hair on others, just not on me!
As I wrote on my website: http://www.EffieGross.com, I will be publishing on this blog some of my writings, especially the poetry. Today, I’m sharing a poem about my godly grandmother, Pearl (McNabb) Smith.
Have you every had a bad haircut? Did you ever give one? Anyone know about a “bowl cut” for boys? or a G.I. cut? Share your experience with me, especially if you like Fitzgerald’s short stories.
They say older women shouldn’t wear long hair.
They say older women shouldn’t show gray.
Who are “they” anyway?
They, obviously, never saw my grandma remove hair
pins from braids or a bun.
They never watched her glory cascade
past frail shoulders.
They never saw the free-flowing locks tossed
from side-to-side like a weeping willow
in a gentle breeze.
They never saw her reflection in the mirror,
or heard her easy style. “Well, hush my mouth,”
Grandma used to say, untangling many a problem
and smoothing static in her hair and in the air.
They never smelled the sweet scent emitted
from her scalp as I placed a kiss there.
No, they never knew any of that, or learned
to count as Grandma brushed her 100 strokes.
But I did.
Grandma’s hair wasn’t bobbed, dyed, permed, or moussed.
It was long, gray, straight, and beautiful.
What do “they” know?