There's a sweet girl working at Sven for the summer. She's a junior in high school, and she's quiet and shy. She is thin and pretty, with bleached blond hair. Marie told me had been going through a goth stage. She wears startling blue color contacts most days.
Today she came in and she'd dyed her hair dark brown and was wearing long hair extensions. She looked pretty, just in a different way. I told her she looked like snow white and she smiled slyly
I spent most of my teens and all though my 20's trying to find the perfect hair cut and color. I've had some really bad ones, like the jet black short cut with blue streaks, the blonde Mohawk and the red shirley temple permed do. It took me a very long time to accept my hair as it is. These days, I'm getting a little grey at the temples. I'm strangely looking forward to going silver (I can't say the same about my wrinkles, which I could really live without).
It's such an irony that when we are young we want to look like anything but ourselves and when we are old want to look like our young selves. It would be nice to just be happy with what we've got.