Yesterday, I was getting ready for work. The last thing I do in the bathroom is brush my hair. Yes, the last. I don’t know why, it just is. So I’m ready to go and I reach into my medicine cabinet to grab my hairbrush.
It was stuck.
Like someone superglued it to the shelf.
I have an old hairbrush, one that I used to used and liked a lot. It was a cushion brush, with nylon bristles and a gel grip handle. I loved it, actually, but it wasn’t always the best at getting out tangles. Then I stumbled across the Wet Brush. I bought one from Amazon and I really liked it. It worked well at detangling my hair. Well, the Wet Brush was stuck so I grabbed my gel brush. I picked it up and….ew.
The gel on the handle was gooping off onto my hand. It was so, so, gross. Can’t really describe that feeling but it was gross. Gel oozing through my palm and down my wrist. *shudder*
Now I was pretty certain why the other brush was stuck. But what to do? I only have two brushes, and the other was stuck and I had to get going. So I grabbed a wad of toilet paper, wrapped it over the gooey, goopy handle and brushed my hair. Then I threw the whole thing in the trash. Goodbye old brush.
I got to work and one of the first things I do is flip open Yahoo to read the news before opening my email. Lo and behold, one of the top stories on Yahoo News yesterday was “How to Pick the Best Brush for your Hairstyle”. Huh. That’s fantastic. Clearly a sign. I opened up the article and read the entire thing. And guess what I found? The best brush for me? The Wet Brush.
Well, that was anticlimactic.
I mean, it’s nice to have your choices reinforced but still.
Yesterday, I got home and thought nothing of it. I read like a fiend. Last day of June and all. Then went to bed. Before bed, I like to brush out my hair. So, there I am at 11:30, and I reach for my brush and….damn. I forgot about the stuck. So I opened the cabinet and pulled the shelf out, with the brush still stuck to it.
It was so nasty. Melted gel from the other brush had leaked all over the wooden shelf. It has solidified and trapped my brush, and there was tons of hair matted in….it was really disgusting. I should have taken a picture but I didn’t want anyone to lose their lunch after seeing it.
So I set out to remedy this situation. I scrubbed and scrubbed that shelf, picked off the hair, removed the brush, scrubbed the brush. Oh, it was a project and not a fun one. But, eventually it all got clean and the brush survived the experience, so that’s good, no need to buy another Wet Brush.
But. as I was cleaning it up, I was washing my brush, which is something I never do. Evidently you are supposed to wash your brushes, but really? Who does that? And I noticed the brush was getting those little rings at the bottom of the bristles, the ones that are hair and dust and probably dirt. I figure that’s why you are supposed to wash a brush, because those are hard to get off once they’ve formed. It reminded me of a story from many years past. I was….14? 15? and Kelly came over to spend the night. We were, I don’t know, giving each other makeovers or some such thing and I had this old brush. It was fuchsia with blue tipped bristles. I liked that brush. It, too had these little dust balls around the bristles. Well, Kelly noticed them and we tried washing the brush to get rid of them, but it didn’t work. One of us, I don’t remember who, had the bright idea to get them off by fire. So we got a lighter from somewhere, and we went out on the back deck and I held the brush while she took the lighter and burned off these little dust balls. It worked. Yes. But it smelled….horrid. You can imagine. And well, there was one tiny problem we hadn’t considered. Fire + nylon bristles. Um, yeah, we melted several bristles on that brush. Whoops.
For some reason, I didn’t want my parents to know. Perhaps because we were so stupid. But we didn’t tell them and I kept using the melted brush….for years. Seriously. It was absurd. But I did like that brush, so maybe that’s why.
And so, I did not reenact my youthful folly last night, I just cleaned the brush the best I could and brushed my hair and went to bed. That’s it. The whole story. Just gross and a strange memory, but I guess at least my medicine cabinet is cleaner than it was.