The prompt: It’s time for a change in outward appearance, be it a character, yourself, or someone in your life. In 500 words or less, write about a makeover of your choice (hair, clothes, makeup, facial hair for the menfolk), fictional or memoir/creative non-fiction. Let’s think about how physical appearance changes can affect the inner landscape.
She remembers sitting in the old kitchen chair. A shiny, plastic apron tied behind her neck. Daddy has his scissors, the ones left from when he used to have a beauty shop.
Snip, snip. Bits of hair fall to the floor. She is getting a pixie cut before starting kindergarten. Her hair is kept this way for a few more years.
After third grade she lets it grow. It grows long, straight, and fine.
The body perm in early high school gives it some life. She uses a curling iron every morning to make the face framing bangs do something. Even if that something requires a can of hairspray, and perhaps resembles a slinky. The back is still long, if a wee bit wavy.
By her senior year, she sprays and back combs those bangs into "big" hair in the front. Nothing can convince the long hair down her back to do more than hang there.
Later, in her twenties' comes the tight curly perm that lasts three or four months. She has it re-permed regularly for several years.
And has it frosted. Gets the ends trimmed. Lets the bangs go.
By thirty, she has a daughter. Her own mother tells her it's time to cut her hair. "You're too old to wear it that long." She laughs and lets it grow.
She is still ignoring her mother's opinion after she turns forty. Though she returns to the bangs, to hide the new lines on her forehead.
The fifties arrive with gray. It frames her face. She accepts its presence. Brushes it into the light browns that still fall to her mid-back.
At fifty-five, the gray rebels. It has body. It refuses to blend quietly.
She looks at her reflection. Her mother isn't there anymore to tell her it's time to cut her hair.
She sits in the vinyl chair, the apron tied behind her neck. "Cut it, just above the shoulders. And keep the bangs." She says.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. It's time"