I put more things in my hair than I have hair on my head.
Okay, I’m exaggerating. But all I want is to look like I just stepped out of a salon without actually going to one or spending the time and money.
Apparently, that requires bringing the entire salon home, one bottle at a time.
I want one hair product that does everything. Washes, conditions, softens, smooths, controls frizz. One bottle. One purchase. One reasonable relationship.
Instead, I need shampoo. Then conditioner. In my case, intensive conditioner, because apparently regular conditioner has looked at my hair and decided this is above its pay grade.
After that comes leave-in conditioner.
I have questions. If I need conditioner that stays in, why did I just spend time putting in conditioner that had to come out? Can’t I just leave the first one in and call it a day?
Then there’s heat protectant. Smoothing stuff. Anti-frizz serum. Hair oil. Styling cream. Mousse for volume. Something for shine.
And those are just the ones I can name.
I refuse to buy the rest. I’m afraid if I learn their names, they’ll become my responsibility.
Every time I think I’ve reached the end, there’s another category. A scalp treatment. A clarifying shampoo. A bonding treatment. A finishing spray.
Finishing spray sounds promising. Finally, something that admits we should be finished.
Then there’s hairspray. Because God forbid my hair move in the slightest breeze after all that work. If I happen to have a good hair day, I’d like to keep it for more than the walk to my car.
So, after putting in all those products to make my hair feel soft, I spray on something that makes it stiff.
I can’t win. Now it stays in place, but I don’t want to run my fingers through it.
My hair has a larger staff than some small businesses, and none of them seem to know what the others are doing.
What I’m looking for is wash-and-go. What I’m being offered is wash, rinse, condition, wait, rinse again, apply, scrunch, smooth, protect, style, spray, and go. If there’s any day left.
All this to make my hair manageable.
At this point, my hair needs a manager. I’d like to resign.
The instructions don’t help. Use a dime-sized amount. Or a quarter-sized amount. I’m trying to fix my hair, and suddenly I need exact change.
One says apply to wet hair. Another says damp hair. Another says dry hair.
Now I have to read all the bottles before I even pick up a towel.
I recently wanted an easier way to remove mascara. The answer involved buying something else.
Of course it did.
Buy a product to put something on. Buy another product to take it off. I decided it might be easier not to wear mascara.
At least my eyelashes aren’t a frizzy mess. I can get away without mascara. My hair won’t let me get away with anything.
So I’m still looking for that one miracle bottle. Something that lets me wash my hair, put in one thing, and get on with my life.
When I find it, I’ll read the label carefully.
Because I already know what the last line will say:
“For best results, use with our other six products.”
—Cheryl Janer
Cheryl Janer lives in Boca Raton, Florida, works as a middle school paraprofessional, and spends her summers working at Tranquillity Camp in New York. She is the author of The Fire Within, a memoir about growing up deaf and Jewish, and Still Camp Sick.