All I want is Jennifer Aniston hair

My hair is the great unfinished business of my life. Not to be dramatic or anything. For years I’ve worn it long and straight. In high school, I ratted my bangs, using a comb, mousse and a curling iron to make them look like a wave just about to break on the shoreline (which in this case was my forehead). My hair was pretty blonde because I spent my teenage years in the California sunshine but sometimes I tried to help it along with Sun-In, giving it an unnatural orange tint.

After college, when I was waiting tables and trying to figure out what to do with my life, I cut it off and had it layered like Jennifer Aniston’s. It was the mid-90s and “Friends” was the most popular show on TV. A lot of women in their 20s were getting “The Rachel” cut, including me. 

It was like when every woman in America got the Dorothy Hamill wedge cut after she won the gold medal in figure skating at the 1976 Winter Olympics or when British women drove their hairdressers crazy requesting the “Princess Di Do” after she married Prince Charles in 1981.

At the time, I thought my Rachel cut looked fabulous. It was much easier to maintain than my longhaired surfer girl look. Cheaper too. Just think of all the money I saved on shampoo and conditioner. My grandpa, however, did not agree.

I was over at my grandparents' house, sitting on the couch in the den. Like always, golf was on TV and my grandpa was playing solitaire at the card table, glancing up to watch the golfers swing. I felt his gaze on my profile.

“What did you do to your hair?” he asked.

“It’s the latest style,” I said, beaming and touching the back layers, flattered that he’d noticed.

“Did you get into a fight with a pair of hedge clippers?” 

I sighed. He’s too old to understand fashion.

Like most trends, “The Rachel” cut came and went and I grew my hair out again. Not down my back like I had it in high school, but a couple of inches past my shoulders. Since then, I’ve never been quite happy with it. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful for having long golden locks (I pay a small fortune every two months to keep them golden) but the truth is, I have too much of it. Every time I go to see a new hairdresser I warn them.

“I have a lot of hair.”

“Ok,” they say dismissively, rummaging through their drawer looking for that fat, round bristle brush they all seem to use.

Halfway through my blow dry, when they’ve lost all feeling in their arms from pulling section after section of my hair toward them with the round brush and running the blow dryer over it, they say the same thing: “Wow, you have a lot of hair.”

Told you.

The problem is, my hair doesn’t grow straight out of the top of my head, cascading down my shoulders like a lion’s mane. No, the bulk of it grows straight out the back ridge of my noggin. And it’s wavy, giving it this very unattractive poof.

The fact that I have curl in the back drives me crazy. Even when I blow dry it, losing the feeling in my own arms as I try to extract all the moisture out of the sections in the back, I end up with mushroom head. It just doesn’t lie flat. Even using a flat iron, it’s not entirely straight. During the humidity of Chicago summers, it’s at its worst.

So what do I do? I pull it back into a messy bun or ponytail. I think that look is more slimming on my face than letting it do its puff-mama thing. But it always looks unfinished. I could be wearing the sharpest designer suit for work or the perfect dress for a spring wedding and my question always is: What am I going to do with my hair?

I’ve got my makeup routine down and I know which styles of clothing look best on my figure. Years of trial and error really have gotten me somewhere there. But my hair? Forget it. Most of the time I’m in the bathroom trying to straighten it enough to wear it down, or pulling it halfway up, then giving up and pulling it all the way back like I always do — exasperated.  

And don’t try to talk to me about product. I’ve tried them, believe me. Anti-curl shampoo, anti-frizz conditioner, straightening styling cream, relaxing gel. I once paid $500 to have my hair chemically straightened. It looked great for a couple months until the curl started growing out in the back again. It was pretty damaging for my hair, which I was already treating with chemicals by highlighting it to keep it blonde instead of its "natural" dishwater color. I may have too much hair, but I wasn’t interested in going bald. Plus, talk about expensive.

So back to Jennifer Aniston. Her hair looks great these days, doesn’t it? Long, straight and healthy looking. The perfect compliment to her tailored, feminine style. Whether she’s wearing jeans and a tank top around town or a silver Valentino gown on the red carpet, her hair is simple and elegant. Polished yet effortless. Oh how I wish my hair could look effortless.

Come to think of it, my hair does look effortless. Effortless in the sense that I don’t put any effort into it. But I want it to be the other kind of effortless. Has anybody seen my hedge clippers?