It's 1979. Hubby and I had a good friend over for dinner. She was a very high-end hairdresser in Georgetown DC.
We all got a little tipsy on cheap wine. Fast forward a few more glasses of wine and we both were sporting perm rollers in our hair. We were both so stoked with what we just knew would be our new then-modern looks. We shot an entire roll of film documenting our transition to our new hairdos.
Then she took the rollers out. WTF did we do? Umm...seemed she *forgot* and left our rollers in just a tad too long. We both ended up with hairdon'ts!
Hubby was mortified. She cut his hair short, and it looked pretty good, all-in-all.
Me? Oh no. I rocked that fried White Boy frizzed Afro for several days. Until a good friend told me the truth. I cried.
I ended up getting my hair cut short too. It scarred me; I quit drinking. I believe it's why I prefer pot today to alcohol.
We did develop the pictures. We got high and laughed and laughed. Then we destroyed the pictures and the negatives. We agreed to never speak of this again. And I haven't. Until now.
We just knew we were gonna be the bomb. We were wrong. So wrong. I do kinda wish I had the pictures now that it's 40 years later...it would be kinda nice to reminisce about the time when I had hair...LOL.
Great thread
@englad!