A Child’s View of Perms
BY JO ANN WAGNER
When I was young, my mother decided I needed a permanent to control my unruly waves and cowlick.
Going to a beauty shop in those days was rare, even for adults (at least in the small town where I grew up). So Mom bought Tonette home permanents for me.
“The people who made these home permanents knew kids wouldn’t want to sit still long enough to have this done, so they included a sheet of paper dolls and dresses in the box. They didn’t seem to know that all little girls didn’t like to play with dolls.”
Unwillingly, I cut them out. If I cut in the wrong place or cut off a tab, oh well. I think there were four little tabs that held the dress to the doll, one on each shoulder and one at each side. Since I didn’t enjoy playing with dolls in the first place, I didn’t care to do the cutting or playing. In fact, I think I threw them away as soon as we were done with the permanent.
Back to the perm. Mom would gather a little bit of hair, dip a paper in a solution, put the paper around the hair, then wind the curl up to my head as tight as she could. Then she’d place a little plastic cap on top of the curler. When Mom had my entire head covered with curlers, she poured a solution over my head while I held it over the sink. Most of the excess solution went down the drain. I wrapped a towel around my neck to keep what remained from running down onto my clothes. Then I had to wait until the curlers could be taken out. I don’t know how long it was, but it seemed waaaay too long for me.
I didn’t like the stench of the permanent. It was right up there with the outhouse in its strength and unpleasantness. And I didn’t like the resulting curls that tangled and sometimes made it impossible for me to brush or comb through. Not that it mattered.
Jo Ann Wagner is a contributing writer for Lincoln 55+ magazine.
