Virgin Hair

As I write this post, my hair hangs pin-straight to my shoulders: not a normal condition.  It pains me to admit this, but my hair is naturally frizzy.  Add the gray, and it's even worse.  Add fog, and it spells disaster for any hair style other than a pony tail.

So, you can understand that I was very excited to be accepted as a hair model for the Yuko Anti-Frizz Treatment demonstration at my [excellent] stylist Christine's salon. No frizz for even a week appealed to my vanity; and three hours on a Sunday morning seemed to be a small price to pay. Also, let it be know that the Yuko "system" is highly regarded among professional stylists for successfully straightening kinky, frizzy and otherwise unruly hair. The system was devised in Japan by the eponymous Yuko, to help her many customers with frizzy hair, apparently a national trait.

At first, I think the instructor was actually disappointed at my frizzy hair.  First of all, it's virgin (who knew?); that is, it's not colored or treated, just frizzy.  He would have liked me better if I had highlights, but since I was the only game in town and he had a dozen students waiting, he lined me up for the infamous "before" photos to document that I have troublesome hair on all sides.

Basically, the 2-1/2 hour process was a sales spiel for the Yuko products with me in the middle.  I got doused with Solution #1 (the relaxant), first on the mid-section of my hair–the healthiest part.  I can't remember why the roots don't get solution, but it's probably a good thing.  After five minutes, the instructor applied the relaxant to the drier hair on the tips.  After 15 minutes, I got a good rinsing, although I was told all the ingredients were totally natural.

Next came the neutralizer, and five more minutes of minimizing any damage.  Meanwhile, all the observers were up and about, scrutinizing technique, hair product and tools, and the instructor was promoting the system like mad. (The anti-frizz system was a deal at $38.95 for three to five applications, while the approved Yuko "flat iron" costs a cool $245.)

The instructor had a lovely, demure assistant named Hiroko, who did all the shampooing, rinsing, and, when the time came, tag-teamed on the blow-drying and flat-ironing.  My head was the center of a maelstrom of activity.  I'd never had two people blow-drying my hair from opposite side. Then came the dual flat-ironing exercise.  If the Yuko Anti-Frizz system didn't work, the flat iron would fix that.  For the uninitiated, a flat iron is two, heated metal plates with a vise-like handle that presses them together to pull your hair into Jennifer Anniston-like straightness.  In the process, steam rose from my head like puffs from Vesuvius.

The proof was in the pudding: even after re-wetting and blow-drying, my hair stayed stick straight.  Unfortunately, it was supposed to wave, so I can only think it wanted its moment in perfect hairdom). The instructor pronounced himself "shocked" and declared the class was over.  He also noted that I would be a perfect candidate for the complete Yuko Hair Straightening Treatment (3 hours).

Maybe next year.  For now, I have ten stylists waiting to see what happens next week after my first hair wash.  Even with virgin hair, I'm a star.