For some unexplained reason, until the last 15 years or so, I fought the natural instincts of my naturally straight -as a-poker (as my dear grandmother used to describe it) hair. Perm, perm, perm!!! They were all bad! The worst was when I went to a salon that I'd never heard of, asked for a perm, and, when it was done, instead of having the soft wavy pre-Raphaelite tresses that I'd imagined (I don't know why...I'd never achieved them before), I turned to the mirror to see that my once shoulder-length hair curled so tightly that it barely came below my ears. To make matters worse, the stylist twirled me around to everyone in the salon and said, "Look at Teresa's curls!!!!" I was mortified.
When I got back to my apartment, I saw my landlords, former hippies-turned-college-professors, who declared that they loved it because I looked like black activist Angela Davis. Now, Angela Davis was really cool looking, but being a green-eyed pale Irish-American, I really couldn't take it as a compliment.
Unfortunately, that wasn't my last attempt at perming. The last time I just had to cut my hair to above my ears to get rid of the damage!!!!