And it looks better than it ever has.
Let me explain. I was getting my hair cut a few months ago, leafing through a book at the hairdresser's called Curly Girl. My hair is fairly curly, which I don't really mind -- and which for 30 years I have kept semi-straight with a blow-dryer. What I don't like is the frizz, which comes and goes depending on the weather, and which is always worst in high humidity; when Diane von Furstenberg entitled a chapter of her 1976 Book of Beauty: How to Become a More Attractive, Confident and Sensual Woman, "Brazil? With My Hair? Never!" I knew exactly what she meant, having my own annual losing battle-of-the-frizz on Martha's Vineyard, which, spectacular as it is, must admit to being a very bad hair island.
Anyway, Curly Girl advised that girls with curly hair should not use shampoo, ever; that the structure of our hair is such that the shampoo is absorbed, you can't properly rinse it out, and that it only makes it frizz. Instead, it advised you take a little conditioner, rub it into your scalp to loosen dirt and oils, rinse, and then condition as usual. Huh.
I tried it. Immediately, my hair behaved better. But the coup de grace to the frizz was a little jar of Dax
Beeswax, which I'd had for a while but had not used. It's very thick and oily -- you can find it, for about $2.39, in the black hair care section of the supermarket or drug store -- and it smells fantastic. I put about a dime-size dab of it in my hand, rubbed it between my palms, and ran it through my hair. Then I blew dry my hair as usual, not all the way dry but enough to keep it in control.
Wow. Dare I say, my hair was lustrous? I kept doing it, all month. My husband complimented my hair, then again. He also said it smelled really good (just so you know, your head does not start to smell bad if you don't use shampoo). A month later, I went back to my hairdresser for a trim.
"Your hair's really healthy," she said, something no hairdresser has ever said.
But the real test was Martha's Vineyard, where I have been going with my mom every summer since age six, and not once, not for one bleeping day, has my hair ever looked anything but a proper wreck.
I kid you not, my hair looked great. It looked perfect. It never frizzed. Even if I didn't take the hairdryer to it, it just curled nicely, no wild woman bush. It is not an exaggeration to say, I feel liberated.
More good news: in January, we're going to Panama, whose climate is about the same as Brazil's. I'm not taking my hairdryer.