HAIR TODAY, CUT TOMORROW

In the beginning I was like any other girl – ponytails and pigtails, ribbons that matched my socks, cute little barrettes. Then, one day in fourth grade, my parents took me to my first hairdresser (not just the lady at Super Cuts) and everything changed.

His name was William. He was loud and dramatic and took full ownership of your hair the moment you sat in his chair. He was everything you'd imagine in a gay hairdresser, including everything you've seen on TV (for example – he has a tattoo of Madonna). He was famous for getting so carried away in conversation while cutting hair that he'd snip a bit too much…and, realizing his mistake, would say, “I just had a brilliant idea!” and then sell you on a much shorter haircut. But the bottom line was – he knew hair, and when you stepped out of that chair you always looked amazing.

My dad was his client first – and that had only been because my aunt had roped him into being in a local fashion show that she was running. Now my father, handsome as he is, is not really a model, but William had pledged to update his haircut to try and help him look like one. It was the first time my dad got what he refers to now as “spiky hair” (and thank goodness – the man used to have his hair permed for goodness sake). It was “way cool” as William would say back then. My dad was hooked, and soon I was in William's chair for my first time.

William and I hit it off. I loved that he took me and my hair seriously, treated me like I was gorgeous but wasn't fake about it, and wasn't afraid to give me shit. He loved that I was this gutsy, unconventional kid who idolized Cyndi Lauper and wasn't afraid of him. He made a point on many occasions to remind us that he didn't do kids hair – but he did do mine.

As it was the 80's the first few hairdos were BIG. My parents even bought me a button that read “No, I'm not Tina Turner.” But needless to say I was the trendiest kid in elementary school, with hair cut in the latest styles. And it was always a bit different – still BIG yes, but I began to learn that hair is meant to change. Just like fashion changes, and music, and everything else in our lives. Life was much more fun and interesting when you could change your look completely just by going to see William.

I certainly loved the attention, not just because the styles were unique, but because they would change. No one could quite pin me down, no one could call me predictable. And, if I got tired of the look it was no big deal to change it again. “It's only hair,” I would say when my mother rolled her eyes at my wacky new style. If it was cut, it would grow. And it would never be the same twice.

It was when I was in 8 th grade that William finally got his way with the color of my hair. I still can't figure out how he convinced my mother. I mean, he was any good pusher and everything – the first time was free. I was instantly addicted and my hair hasn't been it's natural color since (except maybe my roots, from time to time). I'll never forget that first time and that fateful evening when I showed up at our school performance (where I was singing “Thriller” if you can believe it) with BIG BLONDE HAIR! It was such a rush – all those shocked faces, people not recognizing me at first, and then, realizing it was me, rediscovering just how cool I was. Way Cool.

Blonde was quickly replaced by red, which I had always believed should have been my natural hair color anyway. Soon after we'd experiment with highlights and chunks and all kinds of fun stuff. Finally came the day when my short cut happened (and if it was one of William's accidents then I'd call it fate). It was by the end of my 10 th grade year. I was boarding at Interlochen Arts Academy , and got even more thrill out of arriving from each vacation with a new look.

Here's the thing about changing your hair – it can change your whole outlook. Junior year, my second year away from home, was an extremely hard one. I felt somewhat inadequate in my school life, and my brother was going through tough times at home, which was hard for me to deal with being so far away. William had the perfect cure for my frame of mind, and that was the year I showed up with platinum Billy Idol hair – a classic. I know we hear all the time now from those makeover shows, how you can change your life by changing your hair. It sounds pretty ridiculous but it's absolutely true. It's extremely liberating, to look into the mirror and see someone different but know it's still you.

One of my favorite stories happened in college, right after Christmas break freshman year. William had decided to go really short on me – the shortest I'd ever been. So back at school the Guru and I were in the bookstore when we ran into one of our classmates. He conversed with her, and kept giving me these funny sideway glances, but never really acknowledged me. That did not feel so good. As we went up the escalator to look for textbooks I said something to the Guru and our classmate turned, astonished. “I was just going to ask who your friend was,” he said. He had completely not recognized me. It may sound odd but it gave me a power trip – it was like having some kind of superpower. I went from feeling low, to feeling invincible.

By the end of college it was getting harder to wait for vacations to get my hair done. I tried several different hairdressers, even some outrageously expensive Beverly Hills folks, but was not really happy with anyone. I would still see William when I could, until he decided to sell his shop and moved out of my hometown. He was ready to try for his dream of making it big in the hair world. You can see him now, actually, as one of those hairdressers on TV – he is on Style Network's “Ambush Makeover.” He likes to carry around scissors with him while he looks for his newest victims on the streets of Las Vegas , and is famous for cutting chunks out of their hair. Some things never change.

I was lucky enough to find my next amazing hairstylist through a friend of mine. This is when I learned the best way to find a new hairdresser is to ask someone whose hair you like. I quickly became one of Alisha's favorite clients, because I told her from the get-go that she was the hairdresser and she was in charge of my hair. We started to try really funky things, like the time we did all different colors of the rainbow (in the picture you can pretty much only see the blue in the front – but there was a definite rainbow). Alisha was so cool. One year I sent her an invitation to my birthday party. I was very poor at the time, and had put on the invitation that in lieu of presents people could donate to my “get a new hairdo fund.” Alisha was so tickled that she gave me a free hair cut AND color the next time I came in.

When Alisha left the shop because she was pregnant another stylist there, Tina, was ready and waiting to take me on. I was a hairdresser's dream – she told me. She definitely had fun being in control of my head, and gave me some unique styles like the Faux Hawk (not a true Mohawk, but close enough in my mother's eyes). We also went pink for the summer in between my teaching jobs. Tina was also really great about helping me figure how to maintain my hair when I went away for a semester to teach at Interlochen, and she actually taught me how to dye my own hair (something that I was really opposed to at first, and still don't do unless I absolutely have to).

Now that I've made a new home in Michigan I've had to once again find a new hairdresser. Taking my own advice, I asked a friend of mine and found Anna, who has become both friend and caretaker of my hair. I was a new challenge to her, since most of her clients are either very picky or stuck on the same hairdo every time, but she's been having fun with it and we continue to take people by surprise. Currently I'm in the process of growing my hair out for the first time since high school, which is very different for me (and we'll see how long it lasts before I chop it all off again).

And that's my story, or at least the story of my hair. It's a huge part of who I am, and has helped to make me who I am as well. I don't see it changing anytime soon, I mean the fact that it constantly changes, that is. Don't be surprised to find me forty years from now with spiky blue hair or a buzz cut or even a real Mohawk for once. I'll do it just to shock my grandkids, and have them say, “Wow, Grandma, you're way cool.”