BRIDAL SHOWERS, THEN AND NOW

        It had been many years since I'd been invited to a bridal shower so when I received invitations to attend two within the space of a couple of weeks I was actually excited. I remember well how showers were constructed back in the late 60s and early 70s when it felt like they were pretty much the social scene every summer as all of our friends of a certain age were getting married.
      Once upon a time bridal showers were made up of some fairly standard yet unspoken rules. The shower was organized by the maid-of-honour and/or other friends but never by family members. The mother of the bride and the soon to be mother-in-law were in attendance at each shower, the food was much the same at each one, there were no children and never alcohol. The bride would be invited to someone's home under some false pretext such as the birth of a litter of kittens or the maid-of-honour

experiencing  some sort of crisis that needed the attention of the bride. In anticipation of the arrival of the guest of honour, and in fits of giggles, each guest relayed how she nearly spilled the beans about the shower when she met the bride by accident at Zellers or at the hairdresser or when they double dated two weeks ago. Time is spent admiring the cake, each others outfits and there is an audible feeling of excitement as we all awaited the imminent arrival of the soon to be bride.  When she shows up at the home where the shower is to take place, hopefully wearing something awful like paint splattered shorts or rollers in her hair, her friends jump out from their hiding places behind couches and chairs screaming, SURPRISE, much to the delight of the bride. It's her chance to be the centre of attention, to sit in the decorated chair and tell everyone how terribly surprised she is, that she had no idea at all. Well look at her, wearing cutoffs and hardly any make-up and the rollers in her hair...no she had no idea.

The shower has officially begun and a format is followed to ensure everyone has a good time. Games like Wedding Movie Charades or Raid the Purse are played.  The winners are delighted with their prize; usually something along the lines of a gift of colourful measuring cups or wooden salad spoons. After the games have been played, the bride, sitting in an arm chair decorated with paper wedding bells, opens her gifts one by one. Holding up tea towel after tea towel, pot holder after pot holder, tea cup after tea cup, smiling broadly from ear to ear, she tells each guest that you can never have too many tea towels, pot holders, tea cups, etc. One of the guests, the one with more spunk than the rest, has the important job of writing down everything the bride says while opening her gifts.  These scribbles are then read out to signify what the bride will say on her honeymoon night. “Ooooh, it's perfect.” “Can you believe it? It's beautiful.” “I've never seen one like that before.” Blushing, the bride laughs while glancing at her mother and future mother-in-law to see how they are reacting to this particular game. 

      After the gifts have been opened and suitably fawned over and the honeymoon conversation has been read, lunch is served. You are offered little egg salad or tuna salad or cucumber sandwiches that are strategically placed on colourful paper doilies. Of course, the crusts have been cut from the bread to make them dainty and bite-sized. At a swift glance you realize there are three per person. There is a pot of tea steeping and some lemonade to drink and an assortment of petite cookies. The beautiful cake is proudly produced with Congratulations written in icing, colour coordinated to match the paper doilies holding the sandwiches. The bride and her friends pose together, the bride poses with her gifts, the bride poses with the cake as each guest with a camera takes her turn. This can take up to 30 minutes but no one cares, everyone wants her picture taken with the bride. 

      I have been, in the past, to many showers that resemble what I have just described. In fact, I have been guilty of hosting a few too. It all sounds kind of silly but back then it wasn't. It was exciting and fun and we loved it. We were proud of our crustless sandwiches and our attempts to surprise the bride. We kind of hoped to catch her not looking her best to prove that she was well and truly surprised. We enjoyed watching the shocked faces of older relatives as we read the imaginary honeymoon conversation and hoped the comments would be lurid if taken the 'wrong' way.

      The showers I attended this summer were equally fun and oh so modern. The first shower was held outside and the hostess grilled sausages, hamburgers and chicken burgers that were served with an array of fresh salads. A little chocolate cake surrounded by tasty brownies, Nanaimo bars and other such goodies was laid out as dessert. No one went hungry. There were a few games but for the most part it was a group of friends and family getting together to honour the bride to be. The bride was dressed appropriately because she knew about the shower. The gift assortment, if you compared it with the gifts of the 60s/70s was nothing short of mind boggling. A few tea towels, to be sure, along with beautiful sets of glasses, a vase, an electric fan, two Adirondack chairs, champagne in a silver bucket, and on and on. Beautiful, well thought out gifts; even some clothing to take on her honeymoon.

      The best gift, in my humble opinion, was a beautiful and very sexy white nightie, a gift from the bride's 85 year old Grandmother. No one blushed. How times have changed.

      The second shower I attended was in honour of the bride-to-be's second marriage. The hostess gave us a theme; "Tacky Wedding Shower". We guests dressed up in the most tacky outfits possible and tacky we were. From ladies wearing their pyjamas and rollers to hooker-type get-ups, and one t-shirt that said Property of Pistol Pete's Porn Palace, we certainly got into the spirit.  Instead of the traditional umbrella, a Vegas-style fake palm tree with glittery lights decorated the bride's chair. . The assortment of food was restaurant worthy and the wine flowed . The bride sat under the fake palm tree with its twinkling fairy lights and opened her tacky gifts. Among
her gifts was a baseball cap that read Porn Star, a vintage LP entitled “Music to Keep Your Man Happy” and various other trinkets, some battery operated. Her main gift, a Keurig coffee maker complete with a selection of coffee, was presented to her from the group.

       Yes, it's true. The format of showers has changed over the years. The overall good feeling of friends getting together to honour the bride, share some food and laughs hasn't changed. Another thing that hasn't changed: The Hat. That's right, The hat made from a pie plate with the ribbons and bows from her gifts taped to it so that pictures of the bride wearing it can be taken. At both showers I attended this summer the bride was obligated to continue this tradition. And I believe that's how it should be. We have all worn that pie plate hat and it's only fair. Some traditions are just too grotesque and heart-warming to give up.

Give Me a Head With Hair

          All Baby-boomers remember the shocking play from the late sixties entitled 'Hair'. It was risque, boisterous and spawned quite a few top ten hits, including the title song, 'Hair'. Hair, and lots of it, was the subject of this song. 

          This got me to wondering. What do we women think about our hair? Don't most of us see our hair as the very essence of being female. We cut it, grow it, colour it, curl it, straighten it, style it, condition it, hot oil it, touch it, twirl it, swish it, flirt with it, hide behind it, and attract the opposite sex with it. It makes us feminine and, like pedicures and days at the spa, sets us apart from the males. It makes us girls.

          Being one of the above described women who is on a first name basis with her hairdresser, imagine, if you will, how I felt when shampooing my hair one day a huge handful came out. Staring at the many, many strands of hair coiled around my hand, in disbelief, I quickly ran my hands through my wet hair again. Even more strands in my hand. I was horrified, shocked and devastated. I started researching the internet. Female baldness. Alopecia. Scary stuff. There were many causes of female baldness but the one that I zeroed in on was not baldness at all. The technical term, Telogen Effluvium, is caused by trauma, having a baby, or major illness. Bingo. A quick trip to the doctor confirmed my findings. No, I haven't had a baby, at least not in the last 37 years and I had suffered no mental trauma. I had been ill. As a matter of fact, just before Christmas of 2010 I had been hospitalized, dramatically ill. So ill, in fact, that I spent seven days in the ICU being pumped full of antibiotics, fluids, and needing oxygen.

Not a happy woman.

Taken the day the hair stopped shedding

           After the initial 'shedding' my hair fell out in huge handfuls every day for two months. Then one day the shedding stopped. Just like that <snapping of fingers> there was no more shedding. Although I had been assured and reassured by the doctor that my hair loss was temporary so much of it had been lost that it seemed to me total baldness was my destiny. I would hazard a guess that over one-half of my hair fell out in those two months. When the shedding did stop the remaining hair was so incredibly damaged and dry it resembled the hair you see on a coconut; brittle, lifeless, sticky-uppy. I was not a happy woman but I was feeling better that my hair had actually stopped falling out.

Chin length bob I had been wearing for years.

    The hair I started out with was thick and curly and viewing my scalp wasn't something I had ever experienced.

This is where a fine hairdresser can be a life-saver. Someone so wonderful you consider inserting her name into your Will, bequeathing her most of your worldly goods. Well, not quite. But certainly good tips and sending referrals her way is nice.

          After the hair stopped falling, hair cut number one saw me sporting a kind of spiky little number that required a lot less product than before. Where I once used a golf ball sized squeeze of styling mousse a dime sized squirt now did the job. It dried much quicker too. Six weeks later, hair cut number two was just a small snip here and there. I began to feel new thickness in my hair; also a crazy itchiness of my scalp as new growth started to come through. Every now and then I would find abstract wisps of hair around my hair line that wouldn't sit up or sit down, just twist in a weird kind of unstructured curl. But do I

mind? Absolutely not. Perfect hair has never been my goal. Too thick, too curly-headed and too lazy to manage the stretching and blow drying necessary to keep up a perfect coif. Too much humidity to worry about my straightened hair frizzing up on me. I have always kept my curly hair in a natural state and the new hair is as tightly coiled as a spring.

Crazy curls. Phase 2.

          
           I  actually had some compliments on my new 'summer cut'. Cute, easy, great for summer were some of the reactions I received. Wow. Going to my hairdresser over the course of a year was an adventure unto itself. I enjoyed waiting for the colour to take, seeing what style she was going to produce as she snip, snip, snipped away. I liked hearing her promise that by Christmas I'd have all my hair back. 
          And she was right. My  hair did come back. The tightly coiled curls relaxed and I was back to my softer curled bob. Then another change. I am now left with hair unlike any hair I have never known or understood. It's not straight, exactly, but the curls have relaxed to the point where I can now have a totally different look should I choose. With my awesome hairstylist's advice and know-how I am now sporting a spiffy up-to-date look. The chin length curly bob I had been wearing for 10 or so years was on the chopping block, so to speak.

Not so curly now

Do I mind that my hair has changed drastically since the start of this metamorphosis that started in 2010? Well, no. Quite frankly, I just am so happy to once again have hair on my head that is not falling out by the  handful. Yes, it's vanity for sure. But it's hair after all. The essence of being female and I actually like being female. And like the song says, Give Me a Head With Hair.