My First Permanent

When I was in the 5th grade I begged my mother to let me get a permanent wave and cut my red pigtails off. I wanted short curly hair for a change. I didn't like having my hair combed and braided every morning before going to school. I think she relented and let me get a permanent so she would be relieved of having to comb and braid my hair.


I found this photo on Google
and it looks just like the
machine in the beauty shop where I got my first permanent.
The instrument of torture stood tall in the corner of the shop. There were wires or electric cables hanging from the top of the pole and metal clamps on the end of each of the long cords. After having my hair shampooed, the beauty operator put an awful smelling liquid on each strand of my hair and wrapped it in foil strips, rolling it up and putting the clamp over the roll. I just knew I would be electrocuted when she turned on the switch. I still remember holding on to the arms of the chair when I heard a sizzling noise which was the steam evaporating when the heat was applied to my hair. The odor of the solution almost made me faint. But I just knew I was going to be beautiful when it was all over. I watched the ladies underneath the tall hooded dryers as they smoked and read True Romance magazines. I was out of my "environment" and felt so grown up. I was alone during this experience. My Aunt Barbara took me to the beauty shop and told the beautician that she would return for me later. I was very apprehensive that something would happen to me but I tried to be brave. When the timer went off, she began to remove the clamps, unroll the foil papers and led me back to the shampoo bowl to wash the foul smelling lotion from my hair. I was afraid she was also washing away the curls I wanted so badly.


But not so! I looked in the mirror and I could not believe what I saw. To my horror all I saw were dark red curls that looked like snakes crawling all over my head. I almost cried when she used a comb to pull through the tangles. She then rolled my hair into little spit curls and held them in place with a metal bobby pins, which burned my head when I had to sit under one of the funny looking dryers and left to toast. I remember how my ears and eyes burned, and was concerned about the odor and wondered if it would go away any time soon.


When the dryer buzzed, she came and led me to a table with a mirror. She removed the bobby pins and started to comb my hair. My head felt as big as a basketball! I had never seen so many curls on one head. I had wanted curls but not this many. She looked me over and smiled at her
"creation". I tried to smile but all I could think of was would anybody recognize me!


I remember my daddy coming to town to pick me up at my aunt's house, and he tried so hard not to laugh. He had begged me not to get my pretty red curly hair cut and permed. We went home and the next day when I got up I tried to comb my hair and it was so tangled and matted I had to get mother to help. We worked and worked to get it looking decent so I could go to church, but to no avail. She let me miss church that day and we worked some more with my hair, trying to straighten it a little. The machine literally burned my soft curly hair and it looked like dried corn silks, and was so frizzy. It was weeks before my hair was long enough to get all the damaged hair cut. I never asked for another permanent. I have only had 3 or 4 more perms in my lifetime, all making my hair frizzy. Mostly I wear my hair cut short and naturally curly. I only go to the beauty shop to get haircuts these days. No more perms for me.