The Hair of the Dog

Curly haired people always look less put together than their straight haired counterparts. Kinky, frizzy, fluffy or tangled. It is hard. Forever experimenting with anti-frizz agents, serums and gels. Often bordering on crispy and crunchy if not slippery and over-producted. To go the route of straightening means a lifetime of early mornings, running from rain and commitment to a socket. Somewhere.

For the straight haired contingency, it seems that straight is never straight enough. There is the notoriously expensive Japanese straightening perm, the famously toxic Brazilian straightening treatment and of course, the terribly time-consuming straightening irons.

Somehow, for all of us, the stress of the frizz is a universal, uniting phenomenon. Inviting people from all racial and ethnic groups to bemoan their fuzzy fates.

If he were a dish, what would he be?

Fruit Salad: Beautiful to look at and to taste. Almost everything you need, but ultimately not sustaining.
Pizza: We've all known pizza. You were into it for a while. Couldn't get enough. Tried it with every topping. And then got over it. It wasn't very good for you anyway.
Hebrew National Hot Dog: Hunky. Smells good. Jewish and successful. Grandma loves them. Pumped full of nitrates. Best to be avoided.
Pasta: Good for you when you're good to yourself. Versatile and addictive. Comfort food.
A Peep: Sweet, entertaining, seemingly harmless. It deludes you, and itself.
Salad: Green. As good as you make it. Healthy and wholesome. Dressing on the side?