Beauty expert, Vicki Charmaine Bunch, passes along advice to make every gal's life an ENDLESS PARTY, an orgy of FUN, ROMANCE, and SPARKLING CLEAN FLOORS!
BEAUTY SHOP TALK
by
Vicki Charmaine Bunch
People assume I've always been the attractive woman I am today. Nothing could be further from the truth.
I used to be a real mess, a grubby woman like many of you. (I thank my lucky stars my husband Sonny thought enough of my meat loaf to stay. That, and a little trick I picked up as a go-go dancer in the 60's.)
Childbirth had put me through the mill. I was a wreck--a dishwater blonde with chipped nails and unsightly facial hair.
Then I met Jezebel Furr, the most wonderful lady who was ever born.
"Honey, you just need to find a style," she said that day at the washateria. A bottle of Ol' Red had blown up on Sonny's uniform, making it look like he'd been shot. Stormy's diaper needed changing, and it was that time of the month.
Jezebel stood there looking at me with eyes like x-ray machines. "You'll clean up fine," she said.
A light bulb went off in my drab, lifeless head. I don't have to settle for this unglamorous existence, I realized.
Jezebel invited me down to the Pin-Up Girl, her beauty shop on the corner of Bois d'Arc and Love. I was stunned by the wide array of beauty preparations and the sign which said: MAKE YOUR HAIR A WORK OF ART.
My whole life changed that day.
Jezebel is the one who gave me my trademark Big Hair Side Flip. As I sat under the dryer, intoxicated by the smell of Dippity-Do, I read an article in Beauty Queen magazine. "Look years younger in five minutes wearing Rubber Velvet with Pulsating Vibrofiber." I vowed to try the reducing garment, guaranteed to shed unwanted pounds and inches, or your money back.
I declared all-out war on my figure. Jezebel told me about the Slim Fat Plan which enables you to lose four times as many pounds as traditional diet programs. Nine out of ten movie stars prefer the Slim Fat plan which combines wholesome choices from the WHITE food group: bread, milk, mashed potatoes, and vanilla pudding, with your favorite meats and vegetables from the FRIED food group, promising husband-pleasing low cost meals.
I immediately lost about a foot off my stomach and another couple of feet off my hips. For the first-time since being ruined by childbirth, I was admired by men in the workaday world.
Jezebel taught me how to go from daytime to gaytime through the Magic of Accessorizing. A chiffon scarf, an elegant poodle pin and voila! A dowdy matron is transformed into a voluptuous siren.
Beauty is within every woman's budget. Common petroleum jelly smooths away age lines, makes lips kissing soft, and keeps hair shiny and manageable. Make it a part of your nightly beauty regimen, slathering it on your entire head.
Jezebel Furr brought back the romance in mine and Sonny's marriage and nine months later we were blessed with our second little bundle of joy, Destinee Sue. This time I was prepared and didn't let childbirth totally wreck my looks. Since then I have never regressed to a completely ugly state.
Jezebel changed the lives of millions of girls. Even on her deathbed she thought of improving others. I'll never forget her last words--"When God was handing out looks, Nurse Emily must have been standing behind the door."
Then she died. I made a solemn promise--to keep the shop open six days a week and carry on Jezebel's important work. Nurse Emily was one of my first clients. She is now married to an ear, nose and throat specialist.
Not all makeover stories have such a happy ending. Some ladies can't catch a man no matter how tight you roll their hair. It could be an annoying habit--like Tiny Mae and her cigars--or an unusual smell. (Juanita?) But I never give up on anybody.
Most of you are not fortunate enough to have a Jezebel Furr in your life. You look like hell with two inch roots, a beer gut, and eyebrows like Jim Wright. You've tried do-it-yourself products that turned your hair brassy or green.
I'm here to tell you: IT'S NOT THE END OF THE WORLD.
I CAN FIX ALL THAT.
My clients are like stray dogs to me. They come up so pitiful with fleas and matted hair. All they need is a good bath and a plate of leftovers to make them lovable.
Beautification is my sacred mission. As Lady Liberty says, bring me your tired huddled mass.
Huddled masses seek refuge here at the beauty shop six days a week, though they're not all getting their hair fixed.
The shop is more than a just business--it's a microcosm of society.
We have our petty dictator--Juanita Stallings, Grand Matron of the Ladies of the Knights of Pythagoras who made it so you still have to wear a dress to come to the lodge and eat a cookie. We have west-side snobs with their fancy shmancy bowling alleys and used car lots.
But we also have the common man. The guys from the gas station. The carhops and Earlene Whitehead from the Donut Den. Teachers and roofers and a chiropractor. And my best friend Brandi who sells socks out at the First Monday grounds in Weatherford.
Saints and sinners, coming to the beauty shop for coffee and sympathy. Wanting me to straighten out their lives.
Misty Dawn, designer of the famous Misty Dawn Creations earrings, has been living in the back of the shop for four years, ever since her mother was sentenced to Huntsville.
I've known Misty her all life. Her mother LaVerne brought her in before every Little Miss Pageant. You've seen her picture in the Rattler--Miss Teen Axel, Miss Cobb County Hot Pepper, Miss Beefmaster--not to mention she's the model for Buford's Western Wear.
Pride goeth before the fall. When Misty Dawn was thwarted in her meteoric rise, losing homecoming queen to Lacy Davis, her mother snapped.
LaVerne stole the homecoming float, the theme of which was All Eyes on Axel, with tissue paper eyeballs that were harder than heck to make. When Sheriff Dickey recovered it out at Devil's Bathtub, LaVerne talked her boyfriend, an ex-con named Earnest Twitty, into helping her steal the band instruments.
It put a dent in Axel High School homecoming festivities. The instruments were never recovered, except a tuba which must have fallen off the back of Earnest's trailer. During sentencing, the prosecutor asked LaVerne if she'd return the instruments in exchange for a lighter sentence.
"You can kiss my ass," she told the jurors.
Misty's been with me ever since. She passed her state manicurist boards last summer and is saving up to go to the Famous Model and Charm School in Dallas. She is taking orders for her Christmas bulb earrings which sold out in three days last year. Order by November 10!
Misty's like a daughter to me, except she doesn't throw fits like Stormy and Destinee. It's a good thing Sonny's gone from home a lot on his route, or else he would probably leave us, with the constant bickering over clothes and who's in the bathroom.
My theory is childhood is a time to try out misdemeanor crimes on your siblings. Hopefully, you get it out of your system before you can be held liable for it.
My sister Kathy and I get along fine now, although I did consider taking out a contract on her when I caught her kissing Sonny on the back porch. She says she mistook him for her husband Floyd which I find difficult to believe, since you could fit two of Sonny in Floyd's overalls.
Anyway, blood's thicker than water.
And our brother Jimmy Ed, the family clown, gets himself in one mess after another, but he's so darn cute you just can't help but love him.
Here I must issue a WARNING.
IT IS POSSIBLE TO BE TOO CUTE FOR YOUR OWN GOOD.
Even as a preteen I was conscious that my large bust made me unpopular with other girls. They deliberately encouraged me to wear unflattering styles and odd hairdos to "level the playing field."
Don't let jealous girls make a fool out of you!
Whenever a so-called girlfriend gives you advice, you would be wise to DO THE EXACT OPPOSITE.
Not to brag, but I am more than a regular beautician. I am a member of MENSA.
It was during my stint at Ajax Beauty College that I discovered I was practically a genius. Being a genius beautician has distinct advantages. Without a whole lot of thought you know instantly, scientifically, which hairstyles match somebody's head shape and whether they should go blond.
But being smart isn't all it's cracked up to be. People expect you to do their thinking for them. They expect you to spell words like psoriasis. Plus, it's lonely being way smarter than everybody else, and it can cause fights too. Like I wanted to name the girls Amoeba Ann and Saliva, but Sonny said that would be showing off.
I feel guilty putting a client under the hair dryer with its terrible cancer-causing electromagnetic force field. But if I told the public about the hazards of appliance usage, there would be worldwide panic, and a lot of countries are already on the brink of World War III. This is only one of many scientific things I have to keep secret. (You might want to start a little bomb shelter in your backyard--that's all I'm saying.)
It's boring to be around regular people. Geniuses require a challenge--discovering things, writing poems, making prank calls.
The Axel Genius Society meets every Thursday at the Pancake Shack. Non-members are jealous and hate our guts. But getting together with people on our own brain level is the only thing that keeps us geniuses from going off the deep end. We're already so tensed up--and most can't hold a decent job.
We feel like we're carrying the weight of the world on our shoulders. People depend on us to tell them what to do if there's an invasion from outer space. They want us to tell them what would happen if a dog and cat mated. Or a cow and a horse. Things only a genius would know.
TRUE SCIENCE WOULD SCARE THE PUBLIC TO DEATH.
These are the hairstyles invented by geniuses: beehive, poodle-cut, mohawk, ducktails, bubble, side sweepover, tornado, butch, and the Larry.
Few people realize Albert Einstein was a frustrated hairdresser, as was Adolf Hitler. Both Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin Franklin were licensed cosmetologists.
WHY DID GOD INVENT HAIR?
Anthropologists believe we have hair--not fur--because we stood in the ocean which gradually eroded away the fur you see on the monkey, except for Sonny, whose back is like shag carpet.
Another theory is that it keeps our brain from freezing at places like the North Pole.
I believe God gave us hair to make us cute. Procreation--that is S-E-X--is the whole reason for existence. Otherwise life as we know it would disappear and there would just be rocks and stuff.
Man's hair evolved along with him, going from the messy ape (short but easy to keep) to the more sophisticated Big Hair styles of today.
Generally speaking, the bigger the hair-do, the smarter the person. My guess is that Michael Bolton and Fabio are unrecognized geniuses. Which proves, as I have always suspected, that "dumb blonde" jokes are made up by stupid, jealous people.
HOW WILL MAN WEAR HIS HAIR IN THE FUTURE?
Figuring out the future is one of the responsibilities of brains like me. I love the future and look forward to getting my first jet pack and feeding Sonny pills or toothpaste food instead of getting stuck in the kitchen for hours.
The name of my beauty shop--2001, a Hair Odyssey--expresses my enthusiasm about the future, a time in which new inventions will enable us to create fancy hairdos never before even dreamed of.
In honor of the millennium, I have been envisioning some new styles.
[ILLUSTRATION]
The Rocket The Space Shuttle Elliptical Orbit
Nostradamus' Revenge The Big Bang Life on Mars
I hope the foregoing information was not too technical for the reader. I tried to make it simple. I can't help it if I'm an A+ girl in a C- world.
Wherever I go, people ask for free advice. The futurist-hairdresser doesn't have a millisecond to call her own. I heard of a beautician in Sulphur Springs who got sued over bad advice she gave in line at the post office! And she was taking an antihistamine!
THE ROOTS OF GENIUS
Next to Jezebel Furr, my grandmother was the greatest influence in my life. Just like me, she was not perfect. She tried to run over Grandpa and, we suspect, poisoned us all a number of times, though it's not clear whether it was intentional.
She had an artistic temperament is all and by the time I was five, I knew I had one too.
My family was one of those where everybody dyes their hair the same color for holidays. One year we were aqua for Easter. Of course we included our precious dog Fluffy! And what would the Fourth of July be without the old Red, White, and Blue?
Our family was known in Axel for its striking resemblance to the famous blond-headed singing King Family.
Sister Modesta Steptoe, our preacher's wife, paid a visit to my mother in the hospital when I was born. "Don't you hope little Vicki gets her father's glorious pompadour?" she asked. No one knew my father's golden locks came from a Toni permanent wave. (Is that a sin of omission?)
Hair was my family's whole life--the way in other families it's football. Grandma had it worst-- she was obsessed with hair. Maybe it was the looming threat of atomic war which drove her. All I know is she made every one of us a platinum blonde and gave us monthly perms. At the tender age of four weeks, I was given my first Tonette Home Perm.
Unfortunately all the men on my side of the family are totally bald. My uncles blame Grandma. Apparently the weak shafts of the male cannot hold up to an onslaught of chemicals over a period of ten or fifteen years. Most Bunch men went bald as teenagers.
I'll never forget the sight of Grandpa in curler rods. When Daddy's truck broke down on the way to Waxahachie, Grandma was right in the middle of giving Grandpa a permanent. Grandpa loaded up his tools and drove there and back without neutralizer. By the time he got home, the perm rods had fallen out but so had Grandpa's curly blond hair.
Grandma hardly slept, she was such a driven genius, like Thomas Edison in that respect. She was the inventor of the eight step hair dye process which, though no longer in use, revolutionized hair color technology south of the Red River.
A prophet is never appreciated in her own land. Grandma died of a broken heart when the hairdo she designed, her pride and joy--the Rat Head--didn't catch on. Now known as the popular Bump, it has been the rage of two generations, which doesn't do Grandma any good since she is dead.
My only regret is that she didn't live long enough to see me graduate from Ajax Beauty College.
Be you a genius or a more artsy-craftsy type, don't let the nattering nabobs of negativism make you self-conscious about your special ability! If everybody was just a stupid, boring idiot, the world would be a dull place indeed.
Even more than you need to nourish your hair shafts, you need to cultivate the garden of your creativity. Maybe all you can do is vacuum the rug, but you can vow to do it more creatively than anybody ever has before.
Remember Jezebel's motto? MAKE YOUR HAIR A WORK OF ART. I adopted it for my own life creed and you can too.
Fill in the blank and set it as a seal upon your heart!
MAKE YOUR _____________ A WORK OF ART
Ever wondered whether you are one of the seven out of ten people with true art talent? You may be sitting on a gold mine of undiscovered ability! Holiday decorations, placemats, painted T-shirts--the possibilities are mind-boggling!
Find out now BEFORE IT IS TOO LATE. Don't let jealous "normal" people rob you of a life of fun, homemade knick-knacks, and listening to the muse.
ARE YOU ARTISTIC?
TAKE THIS TEST!
1. Penchant for Dramatics
Have you ever threatened to blow up an entire town?
2. Misunderstood
Are others too dumb to "get" your ideas?
3. Always Been "Different"
Are you considered the unique-est person in town?
4. Suffering for Art's Sake
If you made some really great work of art and unartistic people said it was stupid, would you start crying and lose control, maybe even hitting them or running over them in your car? Would you hurt yourself to prove a point?
5. Inspiration
Do you sense that your ideas come from angels, demons or aliens?
6. Sacred Mission
Do you feel you were born to . . . (macrame, fix hair, paint-by-number, etc.)?
7. Runs in Family
Are members of your family considered a danger to society?
8. Priorities
Would you rather paint a picture of a cute little puppy than bet on a dog fight?
9. Jealous
Do people make fun of you just because they're jealous?
10. Sensitive
Do you lie awake at night thinking of ways to get even?
SCORING
0-3 YES Pocket protector nerd. Though most people consider you a boring clod, you are reliable and efficient. Suggested hairstyle: bun; basic IBM cut.
4-7 YES You can successfully pose as an artiste at county fairs and starving artist shows. You may be able to put together rudimentary craft kits. Suggested hairstyle: I Dream of Jeanie braid; beatnik look with goatee.
8-10 YES Watch out Leonardo da Vinci! You have such a highly developed aesthetic sensibility, people can't even understand what you are talking about. Michaelangelo, Norman Rockwell, and the guy that draws Garfield are members of this elite group. You could benefit from a Drawing-by-Mail course. Or try your hand at macaroni art. Suggested Hairstyle: Bandaged Head Wound.
CUT OUT THESE HAIRDOS FOR "COMPUTER IMAGING"
Cut out these styles and try them out on a photo of yourself!
[Art work available]
KISSABILITY TIPS
How to catch (or keep) that man!
1. Shampoo at least twice a month.
2. Hope puppy love will grow into dog love? Don't forget to feed the beast! Keep powdered doughnuts on hand.
3. Good posture makes you look fifty pounds lighter.
4. For a night on the town, weave a rubber python through your cascade for an exotic look.
5. Keep mascara and a tube of lipstick on the bedside table "just in case."
Ladies, I hope that I have in some small way helped you fulfill your destiny as the architect of your magnificent splendor. Not everyone can be a beautician, but everyone can be a beauty.
Let today be the first day of the new FANCIER you. Whatever has held you in the rut of ugliness is no match for your determination once you decide to BE CUTE.
As you go about your daily routine--mending Harry's socks, baking cookies for the PTA, playing host to the bridge club--remember to hold your head up, stick your bust out, and don't trust other women!
Except me.