CityView Magazine

12 | June 2020 O S O M E D A Y Y O U ' L L T H A N K M E My Kingdom for a Haircut "A horse, a horse! My kingdom for a horse! " — Richard III, Act V BY MARY ZAHRAN O bviously, I'm not King Richard, and grocery shopping is not hand-to-hand combat (although lately it feels like it). Nevertheless, I have a new appreciation for Richard's desperation as he searched in vain for his horse during the Battle of Bosworth Field. I want a haircut much more than Richard ever wanted his horse, and I'm not the only woman in America who feels this way. How can I make this statement with such certainty? I went to the grocery store yesterday, and the evidence was everywhere. anks to the closure of hair salons because of the Covid-19 pandemic, women are dealing with hairstyle challenges that are putting their patience and pride to the ultimate test. I currently have an unruly, shaggy haircut and a color pattern that would make Cruella de Vil proud. Allow me to describe the elaborate preparations I go through to make myself somewhat presentable to fellow shoppers. First, I must shampoo and blow-dry my hair, something that takes much longer than it did when my hair was much shorter. In the pre-lockdown universe, I could dry my hair in five minutes flat. Now, with two months' growth to contend with, drying my hair takes 20 minutes. e fact that I have hair that a former stylist once described as "growing faster than bamboo" doesn't help. Sometimes, if I sit really still in a quiet room, I can hear my hair growing. Second, I must arrange certain strands of hair to cover the ever-graying landscape on top of my head, no small feat since the gray hairs now outnumber the brown hairs two to one. In moments of desperation, I have even resorted to using a color spray for my roots reminiscent of the paint used by graffiti artists to decorate bridges and buildings. While I have yet to cra any politically or socially significant messages on my scalp, I have managed to avoid blinding onlookers at the sight of my white roots. To keep my hairdressing masterpiece in place, I use an industrial strength hairspray with enough holding power to fuse together all the components of a nuclear submarine. Clearly, my hair and I are at war, and I must use every weapon at my disposal. Confident that all my preparations have rendered me semi-presentable, I drive to the grocery store, praying that neither rain, wind, nor small animal will disturb the arrangement of my faux coiffure. Inside, I immediately encounter other women with their own hair issues. I have not been in the store five minutes before I run into a friend who tells me that she has abandoned any attempt at camouflaging her hair problems. She has simply swept her hair into a loose French twist, exposing her roots to the world. I admire her courage and total lack of vanity as she goes happily on with her shopping, not seeming to care one bit what anyone else might think of her appearance. Minutes later, I run into another friend who has taken the exact opposite approach to dealing with her hair. She is wearing a huge hat and has carefully tucked her hair underneath it. I look at her and immediately think of women known for their hats: Jackie Kennedy, Audrey Hepburn in "Breakfast at Tiffany's" and "My Fair Lady,"

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