Hello, Gorgeous

Up, up and away

The only time I ever get to wear a superhero cape is when I'm at Hello, Gorgeous, undergoing extensive beautification. I sit there draped in a black vinyl number that swallows me whole, and wonder, couldn't they make a cape in my size? This cape is ginormous. I could be au naturel under here, and no one would know. In terms of fashion, this cape does me no favors. The look, in general, is the opposite of flattering. Plus, this thing's a safety hazard. I could trip on it, and then what? They'd have to change the name from Hello, Gorgeous, to Hello, Lawsuit. You know how I hate to get all litigious. But swaddle me in a major stumbling hazard and I will sue your ass. What can I say? This is the weighty stuff the SJG ponders while staring at my fuzzy reflection in the mirror. For the duration of my visit, the salon is blurrsville. I take my glasses off in case the toxic chemicals seeping into my keppy head south and drip on my pricey specs. That's one catastrophe I can prevent. The point is -- I'm sure there's a point in here somewhere, be patient -- I'd rather think about my cape -- devoid of superhero powers, I might add -- than focus on the high cost of haircare. The cape may only come in giant, but the bill comes in all sizes.  Haircut (Smallish).  Single-Process (Medium).  Highlights (Large). The whole megillah (Bank loan required). But hey, as the commercial says, I'm worth it.