The Ultimate ’80s Hair Saga: The Perm Disaster

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From the moment I was born, I had fine, straight dark hair. As a kid, I couldn’t help but envy all the girls with luscious curls; what I craved more than anything were those vibrant, bouncy ringlets. Do you remember the character Ramona Quimby? She was fixated on Susan, the curly-haired classmate who sat in front of her, always fascinated by how her curls would spring back when pulled. My best friend in elementary school boasted gorgeous, curly blonde locks, and I was equally captivated by them. Luckily, since we were close pals, I got to “boing” her curls to my heart’s content without any repercussions. (Ironically, I later discovered she secretly wished for my sleek, straight hair and would have switched places in a heartbeat.)

Curly hair was undoubtedly the trend of the time, especially in the vibrant ’80s. Every celebrity seemed to sport voluminous, curly hairstyles—big hair was in! Looking back, I can’t fathom how outrageous some of those ’80s styles were, yet I was utterly enamored with Madonna’s teased perm and Sarah Jessica Parker’s spiral curls. Even heartthrobs like Jon Bon Jovi were flaunting their permed hairstyles.

After what felt like an eternity of persistent pleading, I finally convinced my mom to let me get a perm when I was 11. I was the quintessential persistent preteen. I’m not sure why she relented—perhaps it was the ’80s influence, and she thought every girl should have a perm. My argument? She had enjoyed them in her youth, so it wasn’t fair for me to wait.

We went to a local salon in the mall, where I remember feeling the tight, sometimes painful tug of the rollers as my hair was set. Sitting under the warm dome of the salon dryer was thrilling, but the overwhelming stench of the chemicals was unforgettable—it smelled just like rotten eggs! I was told not to wash my hair for a few days afterward, and the lingering odor forced me to hold my breath whenever I had to be near my own hair. However, the results were stunning; I could finally run my fingers through those perfect corkscrew curls, and I boinged them to my heart’s content.

But just like that, everything changed. The moment I washed my hair, my beautifully formed curls vanished, and within days, I looked like I had encountered an electrical outlet—frizzy and shapeless! You’d think I would have received guidance on how to maintain my new perm. Perhaps we left the salon with some kind of mousse or gel, but I likely didn’t know how to use it. My mom’s solution? “Just throw it in a ponytail.”

As a result, I was stuck with enormous, wild hair for about six months until it grew out. I fit right in with other girls of the ’80s; we all sported those big, frizzy hairdos, a testament to the times. However, I learned a valuable lesson—maybe that was my mom’s plan all along when she allowed me to get the perm. Once my boring straight hair began to return, I found a newfound appreciation for my low-maintenance locks.

Sometimes, the grass isn’t greener on the other side or, should I say, curlier!

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In summary, my journey through the world of ’80s hairstyles taught me to embrace my natural hair. The quest for curls was not the glamorous adventure I had envisioned, and it ultimately led me to appreciate the simplicity of my straight hair.