Wiggin’ Out


RW ExciteI got to thinking about a book I read along time ago.  Can’t remember the name of it but it was a ‘futuristic romance’ novel.  Now I am not one who typically reads romance novels, however, for a year back in 1994 or thereabouts I found myself plunged into the darkest depression I’ve experienced to date.

This was a result of memories that had been repressed and that had now surfaced.  Oddly enough for that year I read approximately 200-250 romance novels.

Inadvertently I became something of an unqualified ‘expert’ on this genre.  And now that I’ve made my excuses I will carry on.

In the book in question, the female lead is a futuristic soldier.  She is by description perfectly formed and is pretty much hairless.  This is now how the current society rules. After having a waterless shower she can walk into some contraption and order up whatever hair colour she wants, her choice of cosmetics, clothes and also change her eye colour if she so chooses.  All of these goodies are zapped into place and she is out the door.

Of course there is a rebel faction outside of this society that is considered the ‘enemy’.  They stayed au-natural and as is the formula for such romance novels, she meets one of these beastly and very hairy males and takes him prisoner.  Of course, hormones win out and they have amazing sex with a multitude of orgasms involved and she eventually throws away her life to go off and live in a mountain somewhere.  (I can’t really recall how it ended but typically with romance novels even the strongest female characters acquiesce to the male’s lifestyle.)

If you are asking yourself what’s the point of this odd little recollection of mine then here is my reasoning.  What spurred this particular remembrance was the idea of being able to walk into a contraption and change your appearance radically from day to day.  As I positioned my wig this morning and pulled out all the little pieces stuck beneath the elasticized netting and combed the mop into place I wondered how homogenized we would all look if we could do that.

And I wondered, if in this world I had read about close to 20 years ago, the women actually went out with no hair at all.  I don’t recall it ever stating this.

Yesterday I saw the surgeon who performed my surgery back in June.  This was a follow up to ensure that I had healed up and no scalpels or sponges had been left inside.  And I have healed up fabulously.

The doctor thought I still had my hair and that I had simply changed the colour and style.  We have only met twice before.  Pre-op my hair was growing out and looking rather unruly as it usually did.  Day of the operation I was covered in baby blue shower cap during surgery and well, I don’t want to even begin to describe the horror of my hair after the operation.

When I told her it was a wig, Dr. Finlayson was impressed on how natural it looked.  And you know, the funny thing is that while I have been told this a number of times now, to me it looks so ‘fake’. And in my typically curious manner I began to analyze my response.

Laying in bed last night I let these musings play about and then another thought occurred.  I got to thinking about sex.  I am a single woman after all and I wondered if being bald at the moment would add a new dimension to the act.

I like having my hair touched during sex normally so how would it feel while in this state?  Then I wondered if it would be a turn on for men.  I would not even consider for a moment trying to keep this thing on during the event.  Hell, I had a bout of sleepiness hit me the other afternoon at work and I rested my head on my hand and closed my eyes for a few minutes.

A few minutes later I went to the washroom to freshen up and sure enough the wig was sitting slightly askew.

And as I drifted off to sleep I smiled because now the imagination was having fun.  My last thoughts were of meeting this beautiful man….not telling him I was wigged out and when things got hot and heavy and he pulled the wig off I would scream “My hair! You pulled out my hair!”

Ah yes, the all important first impressions.  Hmmm…there may be a clue in there as to why I am still single.

The above photo is the wig I purchased.  I would have preferred the colour it is shown in and may hunt around for one a little darker. I like the style…but the shade of ginger blond on me…not quite so much.

Have a good one and thanks for popping in.  Toodles!

 

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3 thoughts on “Wiggin’ Out

  1. Pingback: Why is young adult dystopia classified as “Romance?” | Write on the World

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