ACL will take your hair. That is not a metaphor. That is humidity, dust, and eight hours of Zilker with no shade that loves you back.
I have walked in with a style I spent money on and walked to a porta-potty at 4 p.m. because the pins were done and my scalp was done. You tell yourself you can push through. You cannot. The line is long. You do it anyway. Nobody is looking at you like that. Everybody is melting.
What survived: braids. A bun that was already a bun. Anything I could put in a satin scarf in the car without a mirror. What did not: the cute one. The one I took pictures in at load-in. I have a photo from that morning and a different head by T-Pain.
I keep a scarf in the bag now. I keep bobby pins I will lose. I am not going to write you a product list. Zilker does not care what you paid the stylist, and I would rather take it down in line than pretend I am fine.
Sunday I looked like I had been there. I had.
