Musings on Curly Hair in the Early 1960s

My hair has always been curly.  As a child, no big deal.  But then those teen years hit at a time when Twiggy was all the rage, and if not her short ‘do, then long and straight was the way of the British Invasion.  I wanted that Vidal Sassoon bob, shorter in the back and longer in the front.  And then my battle began…

For about a year, before each Friday night dance, I would buy a box of hair straightener called U.N.C.U.R.L., by Clairol.  Its name was a take off on the popular show, The Man from U.N.C.L.E. (this is where I date myself!).  I would use this product with its big pink, wide-toothed comb and get my hair looking pretty good for the next night’s festivities, where in my wool kilt and wool sweater, I would get hot enough to cause frizz.  The straightened hair would do fairly well for the evening and, like Cinderella, would change at midnight back to its curly self, despite the permanent chemicals.

After about 7 months of this chemical dependency, I went to the beach for the day.  After about 4 hours of the sun beating down on my unprotected hair, I swear to you that I could HEAR my hair splitting.  My chin length hair looked like short hair with a ruffle of ashy flounce. I was back where I started, with rollers and end papers, Scotch and Dippity Do to pull the curls a little straighter...