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Wednesday, January 8, 2020

If necessity is the mother of invention...

... does that make vanity the princess of invention?  And what about laziness?  That surely figures in.  Probably the not-talked-about member of the invention family.

I am a firm believer that the eldest child is the inheritor of all the genetic material that needs to be flushed out of the parental units.  Things like the pouchy eyes of your German relatives, the tendency to male pattern baldness that knows no gender.  Ahem.

During the winter, one of my favorite things are the fleecy sheets on my bed.  As the daylight hours dwindle into single numbers, I find myself almost vaulting into those velour-like linens with the same feeling (I imagine) a little mole flees sunlight for the security of his dark little home.  Very mole-like, I burrow in.  Of course, I don't spend a lot of time sleeping - I am, as a rule, up between 3-3:30 every morning - and I am 'entertained' by a variety of dreams during the shortened night, which have me tossing and turning.  All this tossing and turning on my much-loved fleecy pillow case has the effect of putting an immersion blender to my hair.  Upon waking, not one strand is lying placidly on my head.

Add to this the combination of hard water, few daylight hours in which to do morning chores and a long daily commute, to make it inconvenient to take the time to shower every morning.  I compromise with an every-other-day schedule, which gives me a few mornings during the week where I can actually get to work on time AND do an extra little something - like unload 100# of feed.  What an exciting life I lead!  (Insert sound of dripping sarcasm)

Needless to say, my challenged morning 'beauty' regime is usually out of my control.  Or anyone else's.  Vidal Sasson would throw his hands up in surrender.  I am thankful to get out the door in matching shoes (or IN shoes), with a top and a bottom that don't clash.  I pray that I can get from my car in the building garage and into my office without anyone more stylish catching sight of me.  This also has me darting furtively into the ladies room throughout the day.  It's a lot of work.

Since January has me all fired-up to purge the excess of my life, I have been rummaging through long-neglected drawers, casting out things that have been moved with me, but never worn, for over 30 years.  Egads.  Yesterday morning, I did a short foray into the 'lingerie' drawer (using the term very, very loosely, given the state of my BGPs).  I plucked out two half slips.  Does anyone even wear slips now, half or whole?  I feel we've left slips behind and jettisoned into spanx.

(Hang in there - it's all connected)

As I went to dispose of the undergarments, a tiny light bulb went off in my brain.  It could have coincided with catching sight of myself in the mirror.  A vague recollection emerged of my mother covering her pillow with a satin pillow case (she being the generator of the aforementioned bad hair gene).  I quickly slid one slip over each side of my pillow (slip covers - snort!) and this morning I emerged from bed with non-electrified hair.  It was almost tame.

I am now on a mission to obtain satiny-type material and make an actual pillow case.  It may not help my lack of style, but it sure will keep me from scaring the dogs in the morning.

16 comments:

Mama Pea said...

What memories you have stirred up in my head. That same head that, many long years ago, sported hair that was set on rollers, combed out and teased to within an inch of it's life into a mass of something resembling matted dog fur and then brushed and formed into the then oh-so-popular beehive hair style. And don't forget the half can of hair spray that assured not one wisp of hair would move for the next 12 hour period. Where am I going with this trip down memory lane? To the satiny pillow cases we were advised to lay our beautifully (?) coiffed head upon each night so the bomb-proof helmet of hair would look the same when we arose the next morning. (Never worked for me. Sigh.) But I can understand how sleeping on your pillow encased in those two half slips would definitely help the bad case of static electricity your hair gets from your cozy, comfy fleecy pillowcases. Me? I'm sticking with the snuggly pillowcases. My bed partner is used to the fright wig appearance I have every morning.

Kelly said...

Hmmm.... you have me remembering one of those satin pillowcases I use to own. It was even monogrammed!! This is the second blog within a month where I've seen reference to slips, half or otherwise. And "female pattern baldness" is a thing, as my (eldest of the family) sister could have told you. Bless her heart (she rests in peace).

Susan said...

I wanted desperately to be Jean Shrimpton when I was in my teens. So I slept with orange juice cans for rollers. I wasn't anywhere near JS and was plagued with headaches. It's so nice to just be me.

Susan said...

Oooh, monogrammed! So fancy! :)

Lynne said...

Never used satin pillow cases, hair use to be a snarely mess in the morning. Still is only shorter!! ox

Hummingbird said...

My mother not only had the satin pillow case, every night she wrapped her hair in toilet paper. Then each morning she, oh so carefully, unwound the paper and saved it to use again the next night. She could only afford to go to Mr. Semour her hairdresser, once a week and this was her solution to keep her "do" looking good. Don't forget the half inch of Ponds cold cream that completed the look. I think it may have been a 1960's version of birth control. It's a miracle I'm not an only child.

Ed said...

I still think of those days when I could sleep in until the alarm clock went off. These days, I'm usually up a couple hours before it rings. I'm not sure why I still set it other than I still have hope that one day I will sleep that long.

That explains why my wife always has silk pillow cases while I use the ones that come with the sheets. I don't have to worry about the damaging effects on hair because my hair hasn't seen a comb in probably 20 years. I still have quite a bit but I just keep it short. When it starts needing a comb, I cut it.

Michelle said...

My husband LOVES his fleecy pillowcase but it actually SNAGS on my thin, wispy hair; I HATE them! So I got with high-thread-count cotton and daily showers (I got my dad's greasy hair gene). I really need to get rid of that drawerful of slips....

Joanne Noragon said...

Takes me back to the seventies and satin pillowcases. I'm happy now with raggedy hair and flannel pillowcase.

Debra She Who Seeks said...

Ingenious!

Florida Farm Girl said...

I was gonna mention satin pillowcases but you got there all on your own. Isn't bedhead wonderful in the mornings?

ellen abbott said...

my mother always said that the only thing she wanted for christmas was a plain white slip (but woe be the child or husband that actually got that for her) so consequently she never got one though why she never got her butt out and bought one for herself if she wanted it so bad is beyond me but it did give her something to complain about and be unhappy about every christmas morning. I think we must have all know that even then slips were becoming passe. I don't think I ever wore one past middle school.

I'll pass on the satin pillowcase, without the wilding of the hair, my fine thin strands would hang limply and unattractively not that the wild tangle is so attractive but it least it looks like I do have hair.

and why the hell do you get up so early? are you one of those people that just needs a few hours of sleep or do you crash and burn by 8 PM?

Susan said...

I rather like the idea of a life where old half slips can be put on the pillows and bring such satisfaction. There is a rich depth to it that those living inside the box cannot imagine.

Susan said...

Good gawd, Hummingbird! Your mother must have been so glamorous! (After the removal of the Ponds...) My mother did not do anything more than subject herself to the chemical burn of permanents. Anyone else remember the smell?

You and Sinead O'Connor, Ed. I'd consider a brush cut, if I was positive I didn't also inherit the alien head gene.

Whatever you are doing must work, Michelle, cause you look gorgeous! :)

I do miss the warmth of the flannel/fleece pillowcase, Joanne. But vanity is still winning out.

Debra, I thought so myself. It might become a thing.

FFG, maybe YOURS is wonderful, but mine is a fright wig!

ellen, if my hair wilded even the least bit becomingly, I'd go back to the fleece. But it is never in a state for polite society (whatever that is anymore). My inner clock has a mind of it's own. I am up between 3-3:30 seven mornings a week. And yes, I do crash and burn by 8 most nights.

I have to agree, Susan. It's very satisfying to reuse something in an out-of-the-box way. Very satisfying.

Michelle said...

😂🤣🤣🤣

Nancy @ Little Homestead In Boise said...

OMG, your post, and some of the comments! So funny what we try to do to stay appealing. I alwasy go to bed with my hair damp, and since it's pretty wavy I tend to look like Elvis in the morning. Luckiliy I have a small spray water bottle, a few spritzs, comb, brush, then touch up with a small hair straightener. Works pretty well!