Only Your Wig Saleswoman Knows For Sure
Years ago I bought a wig from QVC. You know how they make everything seem so appealing. The models looked absolutely terrific in this wig, offered in several colors, enticing me to whip out my credit card. I looked awful in the wig, which was too tight. It is probably not a surprise to you that it was nonreturnable. Okay, I thought, I’ll keep it for a costume party.
Many years have passed since then, and I still wanted a wig for those days when my real hair just wouldn’t do. I have many bad hair days. As the years fly by, blow drying gets more and more onerous.
Recently, at the local flea market, I passed by a wig store. I have passed by it numerous times over the years, but something propelled me into it on this particular day. I sat down and asked to try on wigs. By trying one on before purchase, I felt I had a much better chance of finding one that looked and fit well.
“I want a wig that looks like my hair,” I told the saleslady. She shuffled boxes looking for the right thing. Her first choice was too long. The next, too short. Finally she found what I was looking for. It was comfortable (adjustable for tightness) and about the same color as my hair. I thought it looked great.
But just to make sure it didn’t look foolish I went out to the flea market aisle and stopped strangers. “Does it look like I am wearing a wig?” I asked. Eventually ten women weighed in. “No, you don’t look like you’re wearing a wig and your hair looks great. Are you wearing a wig?”
The odd thing was that none of the women I asked thought I was weird for asking them.
So I bought it. Of course, I didn’t get out of there with only the wig. There was a special band that went around my head to hold back my hair and stabilize the wig. It works! I opted out of the special wig spray and the wig.
When to spring the wig on my friends was the next concern. The following night was my weekly card game. The minute I walked in, everyone said, “You look great!” None of them asked if I was wearing a wig, but I could tell they were pretty sure I was. I didn’t say. Let them wonder.
A few weeks later I packed the wig for a weekend family reunion trip. Again, when to wear it was the question. My hair held up pretty well for Friday and Saturday events. By Sunday night I was wig ready. But when I put on the wig, it looked awful. Beyond awful. I couldn’t get it to do anything. It just hung there with no style whatsoever. I was furious. Did they sell me a bad wig that lost its style overnight?
I managed to fix it to look semi-OK and went downstairs to the hotel lobby. About ten family members milled around waiting to go out for dinner. Suddenly my sister yelled from the other side of the lobby, “You are wearing a wig and it looks awful!”
I was mortified.
When I got home I made a beeline for the flea market, guns drawn, wig in hand. The nerve of them to sell me such a badly made wig! But as I entered the wig shop I decided to be polite. “I must be doing something wrong,” I told the saleslady. “I wore this wig only twice and now it looks terrible.”
She told me to put it on. I did and she started laughing. “You have it on backwards!”
Apparently, although I had worn it correctly with my friends, I had worn it backwards with my family. How stupid of me! Good thing I had been sweet to the saleslady. When I put it on correctly it looked great again. Whew.
I started laughing, too. It was totally embarrassing but very funny.
Should I send this story to my sister?