Funny, yet poignant essay and beautifully written! By the time I was 49, both of my parents had been gone for decades, so I envy anyone who can return to their parents' home as an adult and feel the love and security...
Wow Christine. Usually pieces so well written start with an intro about all the books the new Oldster had published. Mine did with my first “real” book--all the previous ones were research textbooks. My new one was/is a memoir. But I’ll say to you what an old friend who reads books said to me in astonishment when I showed him a rejected submission to the NYT “Modern Love”column. He said, seeing me with new eyes, “You write like a writer!”
Your unexpectedly touching ending made the sparse white hairs on the back of my neck stand in attention. Wow Christine.
Oh boy, so many great details in here! I can totally relate. At 47, I decided to stop dying my hair. I wanted the grey. That was a journey in itself. Now, at 60, all the hairstylists want to give me is a bob. Yikes!
May 10, 2023·edited May 10, 2023Liked by Sari Botton
Stunning ending, Kristine. Loved this...Funny and honest. I lived in Montgomery, Ala., the year I got my period. 7th grade. Lots of therapy sessions over that year.
Thank you for sharing this. Also a redhead here, who at 46 is just beginning to turn color around the temples. My mother cut hair by profession, so I never had to worry about what I would end up with at the edge of the scissors. She passed away during my 40th year, and I still struggle with every single hair cut. One of my sons has cut it a few times and my boyfriend did once or twice now too. It's definitely an intimate thing.
"Surrounded by high school yearbooks, regrettable 80s fashion choices, and the silent judgment of a giant, carnival-sized teddy bear—a gift from my first boyfriend—slumped in the corner, I found myself living in a murky state between teenager and middle-aged self-pitying spinster. "
As a northern transplant to Alabama for college in 2015 who ended up staying, I can still see very clear vestiges of those conventional pressures you felt growing up.
Some things are different now, some may never change, but I hope you have a better time here now. Much love from Tuscaloosa 🐘
A funny, beautifully written piece that lopes along through startling insight after insight. I love how you capture a conflicted relationship to hair with conflicted relationship to family and self. Personally, standing at the far edge of 60 while hot flashes and global warming make my shoulder length hair feel like armor, I would love to put it all in a pony tail and chop it off, but my hair guy won’t let me because he says it will make me look old. Kristine thank you for getting me to think about the need for my own rebellion.
Love this piece. I got a tattoo and let my hair go gray in the same year at age 58 (last year) and I have a daughter in college in Alabama (a mystery to me but she’s happy there, dating a nice boy who had never met a Jew before meeting her but whatever--she’s happy). Anyway, I identified on many levels.
This is so good! So so so well-written. The line about her mother stating “you look old” triumphantly 🏆👌😆
Full of interesting contradictions. But please, don’t ever again refer to yourself as a “spinster.”
>>I’d wanted to look like Lady Gaga at the Golden Globes; instead, I looked like a Wal-Mart shoplifter.
This made me LOL. What a poignant piece, with an unexpected and graceful ending. I hope your mom gave you a great haircut. ;-)
Funny, yet poignant essay and beautifully written! By the time I was 49, both of my parents had been gone for decades, so I envy anyone who can return to their parents' home as an adult and feel the love and security...
"A mangy Irish setter," "living in the woods" 😂🙃
I'm hooked on both the story and the writer's craft in writing it. Thanks for sharing this one!
Wow Christine. Usually pieces so well written start with an intro about all the books the new Oldster had published. Mine did with my first “real” book--all the previous ones were research textbooks. My new one was/is a memoir. But I’ll say to you what an old friend who reads books said to me in astonishment when I showed him a rejected submission to the NYT “Modern Love”column. He said, seeing me with new eyes, “You write like a writer!”
Your unexpectedly touching ending made the sparse white hairs on the back of my neck stand in attention. Wow Christine.
Oh boy, so many great details in here! I can totally relate. At 47, I decided to stop dying my hair. I wanted the grey. That was a journey in itself. Now, at 60, all the hairstylists want to give me is a bob. Yikes!
Stunning ending, Kristine. Loved this...Funny and honest. I lived in Montgomery, Ala., the year I got my period. 7th grade. Lots of therapy sessions over that year.
Thank you for sharing this. Also a redhead here, who at 46 is just beginning to turn color around the temples. My mother cut hair by profession, so I never had to worry about what I would end up with at the edge of the scissors. She passed away during my 40th year, and I still struggle with every single hair cut. One of my sons has cut it a few times and my boyfriend did once or twice now too. It's definitely an intimate thing.
Loved
"Surrounded by high school yearbooks, regrettable 80s fashion choices, and the silent judgment of a giant, carnival-sized teddy bear—a gift from my first boyfriend—slumped in the corner, I found myself living in a murky state between teenager and middle-aged self-pitying spinster. "
As a northern transplant to Alabama for college in 2015 who ended up staying, I can still see very clear vestiges of those conventional pressures you felt growing up.
Some things are different now, some may never change, but I hope you have a better time here now. Much love from Tuscaloosa 🐘
A funny, beautifully written piece that lopes along through startling insight after insight. I love how you capture a conflicted relationship to hair with conflicted relationship to family and self. Personally, standing at the far edge of 60 while hot flashes and global warming make my shoulder length hair feel like armor, I would love to put it all in a pony tail and chop it off, but my hair guy won’t let me because he says it will make me look old. Kristine thank you for getting me to think about the need for my own rebellion.
Thank you for sharing your journey! I look forward to future essays!
I also habitually scan women in restaurants or church or stores to find a haircut that I would like for a woman my age- hate them all!
Love this piece. I got a tattoo and let my hair go gray in the same year at age 58 (last year) and I have a daughter in college in Alabama (a mystery to me but she’s happy there, dating a nice boy who had never met a Jew before meeting her but whatever--she’s happy). Anyway, I identified on many levels.