My "Dreadful" Adventure

I have always been attracted to people with dreadlocks. What is it? The look is definitely artsy and carefree. There might be a bit of rebel in them.

I'm an artist of sorts, and though certainly not carefree — quite anxiety ridden actually — I think I can claim to have a smidge of rebel in me. Those who know me well might argue more than a smidge.

When I hit sixty and my hair was little more than an inch long, I decided age was really no barrier to my sporting dreadlocks. No Rastafarian reasoning. No hair to speak of. Just desire. For a hairdresser to go a year without a hair cut is quite a feat, but I was determined and told everyone about my goal just so they wouldn't think I simply had bad hair. I didn't know 'nothin' bout bad hair yet!

Two years ago I had enough hair to begin…two of my colleagues worked simultaneously for four hours to create small sections of hair, back comb an inch or so, roll it, back comb another inch, roll it and repeat this until reaching the end of those strands. When all was said and done, I looked pretty much like a troll; not exactly the look I was hoping for.

Upon the advice of one colleague who flaunted long glorious dreads, I used scarves and pins and quietly waited for my "immature" dreads to wise up. In the meantime, I realized that this look I had long coveted was by no means a universal attraction.

My favorite question is, "How do you like your hair?" What they mean to say but don't dare, is: "I do not like your hair." They might even hate it which becomes obvious when someone you know can no longer look at you directly.

I'll admit, there are days when my dreads have looked pretty bad. Take for example the day I finally went to get my driver's license renewed. I arrived at the scene at the last possible moment before expiration, and mentioned to the woman to whom I paid my fee that I had been waiting for the day when I looked FANTABULOUS but it hadn't come. Totally deadpan, she muttered, "Well, you could have at least combed your hair."

I set her straight, responding, "I like my hair wild. I meant I was hoping the wrinkles would disappear." She was unfazed and in a matter-of-fact way led me to the photographer. That's when I realized not everyone recognized my coiffure as dreadlocks.

For every problem there is a solution, right? I immediately made an appointment at the Hair Police in the Twin Cities. Three hours after walking in, having bought and paid for twenty extensions which were added at the base of my own measly dreadlocks, I skulked out with a humungous head of hair.

The results were a bit unnerving since I had to meet some relatives for dinner: It was soooo big, I asked for some hair binders to hold it back and needed three of them to do so. Nothing to do then but face the world. Six weeks later, they have calmed down quite a bit and people actually do recognize the fact that I have dreadlocks, although the extensions are straight as a stick and my own are curly. Nothing's perfect in the world of hair — ask any woman.

As often as people my age and older appear to have a noticeable aversion to my dreadlocks, I am no longer invisible to the younger generation. For some time young people had pretty much looked right through me. Now, they once again look me in the eye and if they don't say it out loud, I tell myself they are thinking, "I want to be like that when I grow old." I felt totally uplifted the day a young guy called to me across a parking lot, "Cool dreads!"

Another unexpected result of my dreadful adventure has been my realization that I am equally as guilty as those who criticize me for my hair. Like all people, I have judged others for choices they make that don't match my own. Now I am snagged in my own web! For instance, when I catch myself musing, "Man, don't you know mullets are so passé?!" I remind myself how I feel when others form a negative opinion of me based on my dreadlocks and I amend my criticism: Everyone gets to choose their own look or style; who am I to say one choice of style is better or worse?

I am the same person I was before I began my dreadful adventure. It is true that many of us use our clothes, hair and make up to reveal what we want the world to know about us. When we are comfortable in that and with ourselves, each of us is beautiful. As Oscar Wilde said, "Be yourself, everyone else is already taken."

Myths about dreadlocks and those who wear them:

You never wash your hair (I wash it weekly, using a shampoo that leaves no residue on my scalp.)

You must be a pothead (I tried it only once in my fifties, but no worries, I didn't inhale.)

You must be a 'good-for-nothing' (I have a family, hold down a job and pay taxes.)

You want attention (Could be. At least I'm no longer invisible.)

Comments? Questions? Email Here

© HowtoAdvice.com

How to Advice .com