Hair Heaven

You know you have a hair obsession when you spend the whole five and a half hours at your local Andanda Mela festival GAWKING at every single head of hair that crossed my path. For those of you not in the know, Ananda Mela is an Indian festival put up by one of the cities in Washington. Its also known as the "Joyful Festival of India" and it is full of music, food, laughter and various other goodies that are to promote cultural awareness in the neighborhood.

I simply couldn't focus on anything long enough to enjoy it to its full potential. [And no, I didn't take pictures. I didn't want to be That freak who walks around taking pictures of longhairs unaware. That's just rude.. and creepy.]

I was sitting there, enjoying a local Punjabi group of girls dancing when a little girl walked by and I found myself staring at her lovely head of hair. It was delightfully shiny, superbly thick and so well taken care of I had to fight back the urge to touch it. My hair is on the thicker side -- a solid 4 inches and a little over in a pony tail circumference-- but I felt completely BALD next to these women. Some braids were thicker than my forearm, others about the size of my own braid, everyone's was shiny and soft looking. A few had their hair heavily oiled, most of them were in simple braids and others still-- the more modern of ladies-- had their hair loose past their shoulders. Even those who bleached and straightened their hair looked superbly well taken care of.  Oh, and the colors! Most young girls (10 and under) had hair so black it shone blue. Older women had hair color of chestnut to a more obvious deep orange-red of henna.

My favorite heads of hair were those of the older women. There's just something beautiful about a head full of salt and pepper or silver hair that hangs well past one's hip.

The hair and those lovely sarees of them made me drool. I'm glad I put my shyness away to try on a sari; I'd always wanted to wear one but my self consciousness always got the best of me. I've gained *a lot* of weight since I moved up to Washington and with the dismorphia that takes over my brain I feel that I am a thousand times heavier than I really am. I *know* I'm not as horrendously huge (when I look in the mirror I see beached whale. I know this isn't true because I can still do things like tie my shoes and fit in my care easily) as I think I am but it is hard to go past it.  Anyhow, every time I look at a sari, I want to purchase one but the little Imp inside my head keeps telling me I won't fit into one even though the strips of cloth are 'one size fits all' and I've seen heavier bodied women wear them successfully.

I fit into one and still had excess material to drape over me.

Hell, I even got suckered into wearing a color I normally avoid. PINK.. It was a vibrant fuchsia-spectrum pink with bright purple trim and silver detail. It felt divine, the ladies who helped me into it complimented me on the way the pink stood out against my skin and my husband beamed from ear to ear. He was proud of me. YAY!

He even took a picture -- and I won't put it up because I have the dorkiest of grins on my face. Maybe I'll crop my face and put up the body shot instead. O.o

The food was divine. Bhel Puri was DELICIOUS. It was tangy and spicy all at once. Perfect balance for me.

I couldn't find any parandi, to my dismay. I adore the lovely hair accessory with a passion.

Check out this site! The stuff is drool worthy.

I've made my own out of ribbon but it isn't the same. I couldn't find proper decorations to tie unto my paranda so its rather bland in my opion.

Here's my crappy little paranda wound up into a braided bun.

I did find a pair of brass pins embellished with red, green and gold but sadly, those two would not have held my hair. If the seller had not run out of them, I would've gotten another pair to wear around the circumference of my buns.  Instead, I walked away with a barrette and two sets of bangles I managed to push past my fat ass hand.

Okay, my hands are not so much fat as they are wide. Even when I was at my thinnest I had wide-man hands. Its the Latin American in me, y'know.

All in all, I was in a gigantic stupor on Sunday. I fell asleep that night dreaming of gorgeous, Indian locks growing out of my hair and I finally understood the fashion world's fascination with Indian hair.