Growing up, everyone struggles with something. My teen years were no different. Concerns that ranked the highest on my barometer of importance are clearly superficial in retrospect. That’s kinda the point. Nothing was clear back then.

Marked with a special kind of awkward, I experienced the typical insecurities regarding body image that made it tough to feel comfortable in my oh-so-problematic combination skin. As if being flat-footed, flat-chested, knock-kneed and woefully uncoordinated weren’t enough, right?

Apparently not. Some people complain about bad hair days; I had bad hair years. This era spanned a decade and not unlike the dark ages from days of yore, there was much suffering. One well intentioned hairdresser in Braintree, MA (the bang capital of Boston’s South Shore suburbs) gave me what I dubbed “the mushroom cut”. This unfortunate hair condition now has a name and hopefully a U.N. resolution to ban it will follow. The trauma to which I refer is now called “the she-mullet” by beauty industry trend analysts. At the time of my affliction, there were no support groups for unsuspecting clientele stricken with the emerging social plague. I suffered alone, albeit not in silence. (I would provide a picture but I put media black-out into effect.)

Funny enough- the biggest missteps were of my own choosing. Crimpers, curling irons and hot rollers were like gateway drugs leading down the primrose path. All of the cool girls in junior high had permanents. It was “the thing” to do and yes- if all the girls at school were gonna to jump off a bridge, my knees woulda been knocking as I ran behind, breathless and squeeking: “Hey guys- wait for MEEEEEEE!!!!”

My mother gave up trying to protect me from myself on the heels of a Sun-in indiscretion which left uneven light orange streaks throughout once lovely chesnut locks. I was a pain-in-the-ass and she gave the stylist the go-ahead. What followed was the perfect storm of ugliness: the poodle perm joined with the straw-like streaks. I had spiral-curled to rock bottom before the tender age of thirteen. Served me right: I followed the herd and came out looking like a sheep.

Oh well. Learned that lesson. No biggie… even a perm grows out eventually, right? Usually, but nope – not this one. It was the most permanent of permanents. Twenty years later, my hair is still curly. There are two schools of thought regarding how this came to pass. Buckle up: both of ‘em drop some serious science.

EXPLANATION #1: Nurture
• Somewhere between the chemical and neutralizer phases, the solution leaked through my scalp to the root.
• Double-helix boo-yakasha – At that very moment the stars aligned: Mercury was in Uranus causing the ammonium thioglycolate to fuse to the follicle, thus altering the genetic material otherwise known as the hair chromosome.

EXPLANATION #2: Nature
• Dormant ringlet curls (from my short-haired-tater-tot phase) were reactivated after the hormone tsunami hit at age thirteen.
• The sheer force of angst unleashed scared my hair curly and permanently made “boy crazy” a default setting.

This debate has divided the scientific community, both sides equally entrenched in the validity of their argument. Will we ever ever have an answer to this query?

I dunno… I’m quite busy in the lab conducting cutting edge research on the whole chicken/egg thing.

I leave it for you, the reader, to decide. Good day and God’s speed.

***For the uninitiated, here’s a crash course in PRMT 101 to get you up to speed:
1. Tightly wrap hair on curling rods. When the client is unable to blink proceed to the Chemical Phase.
2. Apply ammonium thioglycolate lotion. Allow 30 minutes for the chemicals to break open the disulfide linkages between the polypeptide bonds in the keratin (the protein structure) in the hair. (The disulfide bonds give hair its elasticity and breaking this bond allows hair shape to be reset.)
3. Grab a seat and some popcorn and watch as the perm recipient’s wide-open eyes tear from the noxious chemicals permeating the air. (Good times.)
4. Apply the acid neutralizer to bring down the pH of the solution and close the disulfide bridge. Hair rebonds and is reformed to the shape of the rod. Voila!

Tags: Boston, Braintree, chemicals, curling, noxious chemicals, United Nations, well intentioned hairdresser

OK kids – gather round: it’s story time.

Once-upon-a-last-year there was a nice girl who was minding her own business while trying to do her part to spread peace, love and happiness across the land. She stood- right, walked- left on public transportation, recycled and always had a smile for friends, wait staff and cashiers alike. The universe choose to reward this exemplary behavior in a rather unusual way.

As she entered her thirties her skin got nostalgic for the good ole teen years and regressed to the kind of breakouts that should have stayed in the early 1990s along with the oh-so-flattering tapered pant look.

Yup. It’s a true story. I am know that girl. Not one to go down without a fight I she turned to the interweb in search of answers and – more importantly – solutions. Information discovered? Something simple to nix late-onset pimples.

-Ever wonder why people would agree to put their worst “before” pics on late night TV for your viewing pleasure? It’s ’cause 2.5% is the magic number for Benzoyl Peroxide. The ladies in the labcoats figured that out and the folks at Guthy-Renker handled scripting infomercials that steer clear of the word “puss” or droppin’ the kind of big science-y words that commonly ricochet off the three walls of those doc-you-drama sets.

-Don’t even think about putting 10% Benzoyl Peroxide on your face. It is no coincidence that the maximum amount manufacturers are allowed to put in their products is 10%. Much like the super sized marketing of fast food, it’s overkill: both for the zit and your poor skin cells.

-If you’d like to save some money for a mani-pedi, go to this website for a list of what products to use and how to use ‘em. Their 2.5% Benzoyl Peroxide Gel works wonders and since it’s not all white and pasty* so it can be applied even when you have to put on your fat jeans and leave the house in lieu binging on chocolate ice cream** while wearing a moo-moo and rapidly changing mood ring.

For the record: I am completely aware that there are bigger issues facing the world. If this little skin care hack has freed up the time of people able to fix said problems, well… then my work here is done. Score 1 for world peace.

*Resist the urge to make the obvious jokes re- “white and pasty” being my actual skintone. I get it: I’m pale. Leave me be. :0l
**Not that I do that… not that there’s anything wrong with it. Certainly not.

Tags: food

I write this here because it needs to be recorded. Despite my repeated and insistent suggestion, my brother will not do so ’cause he doesn’t play well with others and hoards ‘the funny’.

“Kara, women are emotional creatures. They have feelings… sometimes as many as 5 a day.”

And we do. A smart woman moderates those emotions so that she has enough points remaining at 4pm EST to participate in the transformational goodness of the Oprah Winfrey Show.

A-men.

I can’t count how many times I’ve been asked what school I go to. Ummmm… I graduated from college in 1997. Let’s not even talk about my inability go without being asked for ID in a bar/restaurant with the most laissez faire carding policy. Usually this happens after people 5-7 years my junior have been given alcohol intravenously without so much as a raised eyebrow.

Apparently, it’s got more to do with my primping and preening. The haircut? No.

What then? The poorly done home manicure? I guess not.

A new study has just been released that explains this phenomenon. Apparently, I come off as being no older than 23 on a good day. My perfume of choice is Index Grapefruit Honeysuckle by Fresh. Since most bouncers I encounter are male, I don’t stand a chance of leaving my house without my license or passport in hand.

This perfume isn’t widely available, maybe even discontinued. How much do you want to bet that they’re mixing up a couple bajillion batches of it right now? This is going to make a mint in Century City.