If You're Happy and You Know It, Tease Your Hair

Being a relatively recent transplant to the state of Utah, I have to admit I am fascinated by so much of the culture here, particularly in Utah County, a.k.a. Utah Valley, a.k.a. Happy Valley. Incidentally, it took me about six months of living here before I even figured out that those three locations were one and the same.

Besides the religious influence, the food storage fanaticism, and the unusually high volume of anti-depressant consumption (I am not making that up--they don't call it Happy Valley for nothin'), there is one aspect of the culture in particular which greatly fascinates—no—puzzles me.

It’s the hair.

Can someone please tell me what is going on in Utah Coun….er…Utah Val…er…HAPPY VALLEY with all the hair teasing? Am I the only one who is alarmed by this epidemic? Everywhere I go—work, church, the mall, the grocery store—I see tiny, otherwise attractive women with hair taller and wider than the Wasatch Mountain range. Many unsettling thoughts run through my flat-haired head when I happen upon these 1960’s throwbacks. I wonder if any of these women have mirrors in their homes. I wonder if they have hefty chiropractor bills from all the top-heaviness. I wonder if it hurts when they bump into walls or get stuck in doorways. I wonder if their friends and husbands are too kind or just too afraid to ask them, “Are you really going out in public like that?” I wonder if they all have to drive convertibles or at least cars with sun roofs. I wonder if they have to stand so many feet away from the grill flames when they attend neighborhood barbecues, or if the neighbors are simply kind enough to make sure the fire department is on standby.

I always thought that the whole idea behind teasing and putting product in the hair was to create an “illusion” of body and volume. I guess I missed the issue of Cosmo that said sleek was out and coon cap was in. I really need to do better at keeping up with these beauty and fashion trends. When I think of the hours I’ve apparently wasted in the bathroom trying to achieve that combed, nest-free look, I feel positively embarrassed at my hairstyling ignorance.

Now don’t get me wrong. I mean to take nothing away from the women of Happy Valley. I’d venture to say that Utah County is home to some of the best-looking women on earth. As a whole, they are kind, intelligent, cheerful (see previous happy pills reference), service-minded, God-fearing, and family-loving. Truth be told, I had never seen so much perfect skin or so many perky backsides in my life until I relocated to this place. Not that I typically notice those things. Oh, nevermind.

So I just can’t figure out how it happened. Perhaps no one ever explained to some of them that “mop” is a figurative reference to hair, and not actually something to shoot for.

However it happened, however the line between beauty and birds’ nest was blurred, I refuse to give in to the pressure. I don’t care if everyone in Happy Valley is doing it. They’ll have to pry my flat-iron—and my happy pills—from my cold, dead hands.

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