For as long as I can remember I wanted to own a wig. This past Christmas my lovely daughter took me wig shopping and, after trying on at least a dozen, I found one I loved and she bought it for me! What follows is a “veranda conversation” my first main character, Lydia “Red” Talbot (and my very best imaginary friend) and I had regarding my gift.
Red: I hear your family and friends don’t really get the whole wig thing.
Kathy: Correct. The object for them seemed to be to get a wig that looked like the "me" I am every day.
Red: And that’s wrong?
Kathy: All wrong.
Red: So how did Vanessa know you wanted a wig?
Kathy: I put it on my Christmas wish list. She had no idea how much I’ve always wanted one.
Red: So, I’m confused. Why a wig?
I took a long sip of my bloody Mary then endeavored to explain.
Kathy: When I was a kid, my grandmother was an antique dealer and she had this wonderful back room full of stuff – old clothes, hats, cigarette holders, scarves, high heels, sparkly jewelry and of course, other items of antique vintage. I remember playing dress-up and putting on the clothes and jewelry. Grandma would tie a scarf around my head to represent long luxurious hair. Then she would let me use her very expensive Lancôme lipstick to color my lips (and cheeks for rouge). I’d parade out to the dining room, tottering in the heels, puffing on an empty cigarette holder and tossing my fake locks over my shoulder. I was quite the dish – in my own mind - Veronica Lake personified (Beyoncé or Gwyneth Paltrow in today’s world).
Red: Wow! That sounds like fun. Your Grandma didn’t mind you getting into all those things?
Kathy: Nope, she encouraged it.
Red: So…you’re still playing dress up?
I chuckled. As usual Red had nailed it.
These pictures are of my first wig. I’ve also bought a sultry blonde one. When I get a picture taken in that one, I’ll be sure to post it.