Damn, Mama…

I wasn’t allowed to dye my hair until I was sixteen. From January 31, 1997 onwards, I dyed my hair every month. And usually, it was some vicious shade of burgundy or purple. When I turned eighteen and had my first real, steady job, I treated myself to bright vibrant red highlights. I felt was fucking hot.

I kept that look up until I was 23, and decided I wanted to be a hippy and go the au natural route. SO I dyed my hair back to its natural shade of brown and haven’t looked back since.

Uh, until I uncovered a disposable camera full of my 22 year olf mug. Holy crap, I looked good.

Cue three hours at the salon.

When Madelyn woke up from her nap crying, what I think she really meant was :Damn Mama, you look fly.

Yeah, I just said fly… what, not everything from three years ago works?! Man.



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3 responses to “Damn, Mama…

  1. dude. i just said a week ago that i wanted black and bright red streaks (and a labret). now if i do it, i’m just a SWF. dammit.

    you totally deserve to use the word fly. in fact, i believe HAWT would be applicable, as well.

  2. “Damn Mama, you look fly.”

    of course that’s what she meant.
    that’s what *I* said when i saw the picture.

  3. I wont lie, it got me some action. And I loves it.

    Fly, hawt, youre too kind ladies 🙂

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