It was 1973, and I was so excited to go get my haircut and look just like Dorothy Hamill, the ice skater. Instead I ended up looking like, umm.. perhaps her boyfriend? (with major bedhead). I'll never forget my dad coming home from work and spazzing out on my mom. I can still hear her saying "but Jim, she wanted to look like Dorothy Hamill" and him whispering under his breath "well she looks like a damn boy!", thinking I couldn't hear them in our kitchen (which was 70's orange). I didn't know what to think about my new hair, except it wasn't like Dorothy's, but I loved the big pink ring the hairdresser gave me. Isn't it cool? I look pretty happy in the photo. My Dad snapped this picture on the same day of my "Dorothy do", and tells me now that he is so glad he did, because this is his favorite picture of me when I was little and he keeps it on his desk. It makes him giggle thinking of that day when his little girl turned into a boy for a little while.
I believe this is what started my "short hair phobia". Don't you just dig that yellow outfit?
