The Vine: May 21, 2004
Question for the expert on ‘do’s! Help!
I am still on the fresh side of 30 — just barely — and about five years ago
decided to grow my bobbed hair long. I had visions of Venus-like locks
grazing my nipples as Mr. Knight-on-an-equally-shiny-locked-horse made
passionate love to me. Har, har, and ha ha har on both counts!
What I now
have is long (i.e. just under tit-length) dark hair with flecks of (natural)
colours — red, hazel, black. I have followed all the rules and regulations;
trim every few months (when budget permits), proper clarifying shampoo and
conditioner, no brushing when wet, and I don’t bring hair-dryers or styling
products near my hair if I can help it. So far, so visions of hippie-chick.
Not so. I am a bit of a fashion victim, but do realise my potential to look
like a moron if I even so much as breathed in the direction of a trendy
Gucci mullet, or back-combed D&G do. Consequence? I land up wearing about three
or four variations of a ponytail or a bun because it’s easy and quick and
slightly Prada librarian chic. I am SOOO bored with myself. Recent
hairstyling investments include a cute hairnet type effort, which is
supposed to look very Sophiatown retro-chic, but when I wore it I was
mistaken for a) a strictly observant Jew (surely the sleeveless summer
knee-length dress and sandals would destroy that perception) or b) that
Armenian girl with the cat in Wag The Dog.
My hair is slightly wavy, but only enough to make it look ratty, not
pretty-curly. It’s fairly thick, but when I’m under stress (like now), I
moult. A lot. Which is another reason I wear it up…to stop me leaving a
trail wherever I sit. What to do, what to do, what to do?
All advice appreciated.
Thanks kindly Sars and AB Chao,
Wishing I had a short, cute Afro instead
AB Chao says:
Dear Oh, The Possibilities,
I’ve been waiting for a letter like yours, because it gives me an
excuse to talk about my most prized possession: THE cue choirs
of angels here] As I’m sure you know, the CHI is a moderately
pricy ceramic flat iron. What you do not know is that it, with a
little practice, can be your new best hair friend. But we’ll get to
that in a minute.
What I would do first with your hair is get it cut — or maybe even
razored — into lots of long layers, which will take some of the weight
off. This will help your wavy hair actually look wavy, instead of the
ratty-curly problem. Next, you need some products. I know you’re
trying to be all natural and shit, but listen: products will make your
hair beautiful, which will make you feel better about yourself, which
will inspire you to volunteer with a tree society, which is good for
the environment. See? So, after your haircut, ask the stylist what
products she would recommend for your kind of hair. Ask her to SHOW
you how to use it — this is key. She will probably give you some kind
of styling spray (I like Aveda’s Sap Moss Styling Spray), and a
smoothing serum (like the John Frieda whatever-whatever it is). Also,
don’t hate hair spray. It loves you — Aveda’s Brilliant is my
favorite — and you should love it back. Actually, I love all Aveda
products, so I’m going to have to ask you to find an Aveda salon and go
to it.
Now, the CHI. With this magical tool, you can not only straighten your
hair to within an inch of its life (with minimal damage; the reason the
CHI is so great is that it gets so hot, which means less passes over
your hair, which means less damage) when the mood strikes, but you can
straighten just the underneath part of your hair, or random pieces for
the “I totally just got back from the beach” look, or touch it up at
the crown, or flip it out, or turn it under, or whatever. I could go
on and on. No, seriously. And once you get the hang of it, you can
fix your hair in just a few minutes. Also, you can buy the CHI, for
way less than you’d pay in a salon, on eBay.
So, to recap: long layers, products, flat iron. You’re going to be a
knockout.
Dearest Sars,
I need your help or a swift boot in the ass and I can’t think of anyone more capable of saying-it-as-it-is than you.
When I graduated from college, more than four years ago, during a period of pure sloppiness in my life, I put myself into a very akward situation. Living with two male roommates, one of whom I would sleep with and “dating” someone that I was also sleeping with. And by sleeping, I mean sex. Most of the relationships were pretty much out in the open. Neither seemed to want to commit to me and for various reasons: i.e. low self-esteem, loneliness, extreme stupidity and pretty strong feelings for both this situation went on and off and on for a while. More than a year.
In the end “dating” boy, whom I had been very in love with since before I went to college, basically said move in with me or this will never go anywhere. But because he had a past history of ditching me, drinking a little too much and never finished school himself, I went with my gut and got the hell out. Months later, unhappy that neither had wanted to be serious with me, I told “roommate boy” that I was moving out. And then asked why I was never good enough for him. He didn’t miss a beat and said, okay, let’s be together. Nearly two years, the first six months of “roommate boy who is now boyfriend’s” law school, two dogs, three apartments et cetera. I am now hanging out again with my old crowd, including the “dating” boy.
And the problem is? I bet that you can make one hell of a guess. I never stopped feeling pretty intensely for “dating” boy and while I love my boyfriend and our life it is nearly passionless. I beg for sex and always have, I do all the cleaning because he is in school, he never really gives me any compliments outside of an occasional “you look nice.” But, being with him, I have put my life in order. Have a pretty good stepping stone job, am studying for the GRE to go to grad school, run, work out, volunteer et cetera.
I put a lot of effort into my life and my relationship but when I see “dating” boy I want to cry because I miss him and love him and blah blah blah weepy-cakes. Worse, about three weeks ago, drunk, he and I ended up hanging out after a party and he professed his love to me, as in, I love you and am sorry and you are the only person that makes me feel this way et cetera. We hooked up and for the next three weeks I have been alternating between berating myself for being an asshole, missing “dating” boy and repeating to myself that he just wants to screw with my head. Over the three weeks we saw each other a few times, email almost daily at work and never mentioned the situation. Fine, I am finally deciding that I am an asshole but can forget about the incident and make decisions based on other parts of my life. Last night, drunk again, the same situation minus the hooking up.
I don’t know what to do. They boyfriend doesn’t know. I am a jerk. And I feel like the kindest thing to do is get out of the situation and never talk to either of them again. Oh wait, by kindest, I mean most wussiest!
Berate me, Sars. Take me down.
Where is the question, you ask? What the hell do I do?
Frustrated and Angry But Only At Me
Dear Frustrated,
First, you cut off contact with Dating Boy until you figure out what you’re doing. Next, you figure out what you’re doing.
This is not as hard to do as it sounds. If you’re fed up with your boyfriend, you’re fed up, but you cite a number of problems without mentioning whether you’ve addressed them with him — does he know that you’re sick of having to beg for sex? Have you told him that you aren’t his maid and he needs to pitch in around the house, or that he never compliments you and it makes you feel like he doesn’t give a shit? Because the usual argument here is, “Well, I shouldn’t have to tell him these things,” but the fact is, sometimes you do have to tell people these things, and this is clearly one of those times.
I think you need to speak frankly with your boyfriend — you’re bored, you’re dissatisfied, you’re feeling unappreciated, and you don’t know if you can come back from it, but you’d like to hear what he thinks.
But whatever you do, you need to get Boyfriend sorted out before you get all tangled up with Dating Boy again, because it’s not that your feelings for DB aren’t real, but you can’t separate them from your feelings about your Boyfriend, i.e. that he’s not enough and that, whatever else he is, DB is also an attractive and convenient alternative. But that’s not enough, either.
No more cheating on Boyfriend. Work out what needs to be worked out, whether it’s moving forward or breaking up, and leave Dating Boy out of it until it’s done.
So, finally, after months of reading the advice you’ve dispensed far and
wide, I’ve finally come up with something I’ve sort of been wondering about
that perhaps you can answer. It’s a relationship issue, as so many of the
questions you deal with are.
Basically here’s the short version of my conundrum: When I was in fifth grade,
I met this fantastic girl. Call her “L.” I became friends with L by writing
her a letter, because my ability at age 11 to talk to girls I liked was
pretty much nonexistent. But I wrote good letters, so I went that route.
Sadly, she moved away after fifth grade, but we stayed friends via letters
through the years until the beginning of our senior years, where for various
reasons we just stopped writing.
Fast forward one year to my first college
semester. Out of nowhere, she sends me a letter, which included an email
address. We started talking that way, moved on to talking on the phone, and
three months later we got together for a visit at her school (seven hours from
mine). Despite the fact that it was now 1999 and we’d only seen each other
once since 1991, we’d always had a good connection via letters and email and
all, that one year apart nonwithstanding. And thus we started dating. Which
was fantastic, I thought, because I’d been in love with her from a distance
for years. We lasted 14 months, with all the usual ups and downs every
relationship has. No real drama or anything in the breakup. Oh, don’t get
me wrong…I was devastated, I just mean there was no real huge issue that
broke us up. We just sort of…fell out of love, I guess.
About a year after the breakup I met a fantastic girl. Call her “A.” A is
great. From the first day I meet her it feels like we’ve been lifelong
friends. We connect like you see in movies and read about in books. It’s
like she was made for me. Fast forward a few years and we’re coming up on
our one-year wedding anniversary. And marriage is better then I could have
dreamt, even though it isn’t perfect (what marriage is?). We work on our
issues, and we’re closer and more in love now then ever.
Here’s my issue…there’s a part of me that still loves L. Or maybe the
memory of L. I don’t mean “loves” in that I want to shower her with a
thousand kisses or anything. Just, sometimes I see things or whatever that
remind me of her and our time together (all of it, from age 11 on) and the
memory brings a little smile to my face. We don’t really talk much anymore,
me and L, mostly because our friendship, like so many that start when you’re
young, just kind of reached its natural end as we went in different adult
directions. But for that 11 years or so, she was my absolute best friend.
She was there for me during all my adolescent crises. In the book that is
my life, she’s a pretty big chapter, is what I’m saying.
My question is: Is this weird? Okay? Bad? I don’t really ever bring it up
much with A (somewhat owed to minor jealousies that pop up at the beginning
of a lot of relationships. You know how it is when you’re 21 and not yet
that mature) but mostly because I don’t feel it’s an issue. She (A) knows
about my history and all, and she’s cool, as far as I’ve ever seen,
regarding the fact that I’ve got a past, such as it is. And it’s not like
I’m going to leave A for L or anything like that. So, should I not worry?
Or should I seek counseling to get all memories of L out of my head Eternal
Sunshine of the Spotless Mind-style?
Signed,
Not A Triangle, Swear To God
Dear Oh, Good,
It’s not weird at all; it’s normal. L played a big part in your life, including becoming your first love (if I read your letter correctly), and it’s appropriate to look back on that fondly. I don’t think I would have much to talk about with my first love if I ran into him on the street, but I still have good memories of him, and of the relationship.
As long as you’re not getting the photo album down once a week to stroke L’s picture with your finger, it’s fine.
Hey Sarah,
Love your writing, and this probably seems like a stupid question.
I just recently moved from Copenhagen, Denmark to Manhattan. My
question is who to tip and how much. For example, my building has a
doorman — but what’s expected and what is insulting?
Whatever advice you can give me would be much appreciated.
J
Dear J,
I no longer live in a doorman building, but when I did, I tipped the building staff 1) at the holidays and 2) if they helped me move furniture or did fix-it work I would have paid a contractor for.
I have no idea what other people tip, and every building is different, so ask around in the elevator or at the mailboxes and see what other people do, and use that as a guideline. My sense is that anything less than $20 is sort of unseemly; that the building manager should get more at the holidays than the rest of the staff; and that you should use cash, and put it in a card or an envelope rather than just handing them money, which is sort of tacky.
Hello,
I was wondering if you could answer a question for me. I was out tonight with a few friends and we had an argument about proper English. This argument has to do with when to use the words “ME” and “I.” One of my friends said, “We’ll get her a card from you and I.” I on the other hand think it should have been “We’ll get her a card from you and me.” If you could tell me the proper way of saying this, with an explanation, I would greatly appreciate it.
Thank you very much.
D
Dear D,
“From you and me” is correct. It’s a prepositional phrase (“from” is the preposition), and prepositional phrases require you to use objective pronouns (like “me” and “her”), not subjective pronouns (like “I” and “she”).
Tags: boys (and girls) etiquette grammar NYC retail
