
How's this for a fresh face.
It was taken on the day I interviewed at the School of Visual Arts. The felt hat was screaming yellow and the rayon paisly print dress a riot of turquoise, pink, lime and yellow. Hey, it was 1967!
That gets me to the hair. I had not yet given up on fashion and my naturally bushy hair required major taming to be picture ready.
I didn't iron my hair like some (terrified of that burning stink) but I did sleep sitting up with it wound around orange juice cans. Tomato paste cans were just too small. One year down the road fashion would find me in a do-rag, torn jeans, theatrical eye makeup and army surplus fatigues. Very early grunge.
A few years before this picture was taken my Mom gave me this set of electric curlers

for Christmas. I loved the speed of the dramatic change they could bring but if I didn't get them out of my hair at just the right time (more often than not) I wound up with a head full of banana curls that any Victorian doll would kill for, which would stay bouncing around my head until I washed them out.
After all these years of faithful service, this great little appliance kicked the bucket on New Years Eve just as I was getting ready to go out. I had left my goat-chewed looking hairdo until last minute, counting on them as usual for a bit of glam, but when I plugged them in this time, instead of the tick-tick-tick of the heat rising, they sat cold and silent. I'm sad. 40+ years of hair doing. Model KF-20 I salute you!
I think I'll send the Clairol folks a note....