I was going through my old pictures yesterday because Loralee posted pictures of her various haircuts. Not one of them was particularly embarrassing. And that was just so wrong. I not only had embarrassing hair, but look at the clothes and shoes!

Nowadays, I have so many different looks and body changes that people seem to only recognize me when I speak. Think Marge Simpson’s older sisters. Yes. Like that.

But I do have strange looking pictures of when I was younger. I was a bit surprised to recall that I wore a few wigs back in the day. Who knew?

Age 16, almost 17. Daisies in hair for wedding of my father and mildly amusing OCD stepmother. She was 23. I’m pretty sure we had our hair done professionally for this event. But I wore this do in a less poufy way for quite a while.

This is mildly amusing OCD stepmother’s (MA OCD SM) signature hairstyle for others. Ringlets. It was my prom. Even the ringlets didn’t stop me from getting naked that night. I shudder with embarrassment at the dress. Check out the shoes.

Evidence of the ringlet-making. This would be Dizzee’s first wife the night before their wedding. Nobody looks happy here. Foreshadowing.

And this would be the result. See? MA OCD SM was all about the ringlets. And Dizzee’s bride was all about the boobies, cuz she was knocked up.

This would be me, with hair in rollers night before Dizzee’s wedding. Note how hard I was trying to appear sober and no fun. That’s because I was posing with my father. Totally wasted.

Self-styled hair. Note the prom shoes. Many years later. Hey, I have Sasquatch feet.

I thought I had uploaded the bedhead photo, but instead, I give you the having a poop photo. Any mother with a kid that young never gets to poop alone. Not all husbands document this, however. Especially when his wife is wearing a Superman t-shirt and leather clogs. Notice how he cleverly distracted me with a cute baby before ambushing me with the camera.

I had a fondness for wigs at one time. And apparently, for over plucking my eyebrows.

The wigs got beat up a little. It was fun to wear them drunk, like here.

One more wig and I’ll stop. This was the mighty afro, which Dances With Shrapnel (also in picture) loved. He said:”Oh, Mommy, I love your hair. It’s aaaallllll MESSY.” So cute. He was coming down with chicken pox there.

Then there’s the matching hair. His was real. Mine was a perm.

My 50th birthday. You’d think I would have Photoshopped out the red neck, but you would be so wrong. The hot flash queen. And? It’s close to the cut I had with the daisy hair at 16. Only less poufy.

My green streaks. I really like green streaks. This was taken last summer or the summer before that. I’m old and don’t remember stuff so well anymore.

Thanks, Loralee! That was kind of fun.

If you are not reading this sentence in an aggregrate feed reader, then the content has been stolen from Psychicgeek. Bad Karma.

Hair