A Childhood Dream Realized

Tomorrow night, Colin and I are headed off to see our first opera in Paris. As such, I wanted to do something a bit fancier with my hair. So, for the last few days, I've been searching for a curling iron to help with the styling process.

You wouldn't think that a curling iron would be a difficult item to find here. Heck, every backwoods Wal-Mart in the continental US has at least 5 different models from which to choose. Why would a western European nation be any different?

Answer: Because it's FRANCE.

When I finally found a curling iron that was the right size and not designed like a giant round brush, I had to buy a whole kit with multiple other attachments to get it. I suppose this kit is a good deal for people with long hair, a lot of free time on their hands, and the deep desire to look like a fashion runway victim. But, since I only meet one of the three requirements in that list (a lot of free time), I wasn't sure what I was going to do with the other attachments.

Fortunately, the solution came along with my shopping buddy, Rachel. She wanted to try the straightening iron on her lovely, long red hair. Of course, straighter hair didn't entertain us for more than a few minutes, so we decided to use the attachment that no woman should EVER use: the crimping iron.

Boys, I'm sure you don't know what this is (unless you have a sister who was a TRUE child of the 1980s). All I can say is that I dreamed of owning one when I was a kid. I can't explain why, but I thought crimped hair looked sooooo wicked awesome. My mother, however, did not agree and refused to let me purchase a crimping iron back in the day. (I'd like to take this opportunity to thank my mother profusely for her sound judgment.)

So, after several minutes of trial and error, I am pleased to give you the look that I always believed I was meant to have in 1987. I think I look a little bit like one of the Bangles, don't you? Or maybe a groupie for Flock of Seagulls...