So as you now know, my sisters are forcing me to reveal mortifying “fly cuts” from my hair history — every single day until The Fly Cut launches next Tuesday! It’s only Day 3, and I’m pretty sure that whatever swag I had has totally evaporated. So embarrassing. Today, I give you this genius hair moment. Pre-flatiron, pre-anti-frizz. If you still love me after this, I’ll buy you a pony.
It was 1987, and there were no anti-frizz products at the time. We were living in Germany, and by September it’s already rainy and foggy and fuzzy-hair-inducing. When I left my house, I had a sweetly swooped bang and a waterfall of curls tumbling from my banana clip (jauntily swept to the side). When it was time for pictures, my hair was cotton candy. Ah well. Character-building experience.