The parable of the hair wrap.

When I was eight years old, I desperately wanted a hair wrap from a kiosk at the mall. I pestered my mother over what was probably several weeks for this hair wrap. We lived in a coastal town in Australia. The beach aesthetic was the only aesthetic. This was very important. As was my school’s uniform code which did not permit hair wraps.

When my mother eventually yielded, I triumphantly paraded in front of my mirror, flicking my hair about to catch a glimpse of it, before starting to cry and asking my mother to cut it out four hours later because I was afraid of getting into trouble at school.

What a dork.

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