Back in my youth hair nets were so incredibly flimsy. Maybe it was just the ones my mom bought at KMart: they came three to a package and the wrapping was a strong paper envelope. We could never find blonde so I was stuck wearing white. I suspect they appealed to the white haired crowd.
I used two nets per show and they always just barely made it through the day. They were completely trashed and reuse was unthinkable. Hair nets today: not so. First, I can actually find them in something approximating my color. I've also decided they're almost indestructible if you take care of them. I wore the same pair of hair nets for three years with Penny. They got quite stinky, but still look really good (despite some run ins with the velcro on my gloves) and it felt wrong to retire something that still worked. I finally couldn't take it anymore and took out a new set (which I am never without, as I know hair net disaster will strike when I least need it to.) They're working well but after this weekend's show they were less than fresh.
Today I washed hair nets. That they're so durable I had to wash them is actually pretty cool. I put all four in my hand, squirted a bit of lingerie wash on them, ran some water over them, squeezed my hand a bunch of times to move the soap through, then rinsed. They're now drying upstairs. If this goes well I might just wash them after every show. What a crazy thought.
A Note About This Blog
I used to be a writer. Unpublished, but a writer just the same. I have several 100,000 word novels sitting on my hard drive. Then I fell off a horse and got a concussion that scrambled my brains really good (yes, I was wearing a helmet.) After that forming a written sentence was very difficult for quite some time. It's still difficult, but at least now generally the sentence structure isn't egregiously flawed. Verbally and written wrong words pop in, I switch words around, and sometimes I make no sense at all. It isn't because I don't have knowledge of grammar and punctuation, but my brain simply can't do it sometimes. Reading this blog you're accepting that there's going to be things that look like typos or make no sense. It's not because I don't proofread, it's because my damaged brain doesn't see what's wrong. I try my best, but things will slip through. I don't need them pointed out, I know they're there, but if I continued to worry about them I wouldn't write at all. I didn't for quite some time. It's painful as a past master of words to use them so badly, but fortunately the words don't seem to mind.
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