题型：阅读理解 题类：其他 难易度：难
For years I struggled and fought with the bird’s nest that sat on top of my head—my Medusa (神话中的蛇发女妖) hair, a composition of frizz (鬈发) and giant ringlets (垂下的长鬈发) that in no way could be tamed.
Growing up in a Russian-Jewish home with parents who thought North American styling products were similar to illegal substances such as heroin, I was never allowed to put them in my hair.
“Why buy gel (凝胶)? Your hair is so beautiful naturally, ” my mother would say. However, from boys not wanting to kiss me when we played spin the bottle in Grade 7 to being called “the mop”, I suffered for my hair.
When I got to university, I believed my frizzy hair was something that stood between me and everything—finding an internship (实习期), getting a boyfriend.
Then, in my second year, a miracle happened. I was asked to be a hair model for Japanese hair straightening, a process by which the molecules (分子) of my curls would be broken and reset in a straight position. I was the perfect candidate, the hairdresser told me. Although there are rumours about how hair relaxing can damage the scalp (头皮), for the next five years I didn’t find them to be true.
However, there was extreme damage done to my wallet. To keep up the straightening cost $700 every six months, and that was considered cheap. While some people thought I was crazy, I was willing to do anything to never again feel like that bored, frizzy-headed girl in Grade 7. But when I moved out of my parents’ house at age 26 and rented an apartment, the upkeep of my image became too costly. I couldn’t hide from my inner Medusa any longer. It was time to hug her and let her fly.
Seeking an alternative to my high-end habit, I turned to Google. After hours of searching, I hit upon a “curly haired” salon, a place designed for girls like me who were at their wits’ end. Although I bought the service called the “Curly-Doo”, I suspected I’d have the same mop at the end of the appointment.
I dragged my feet so hard getting there that I arrived 45 minutes late. I secretly hoped they would turn me away and give me the excuse I needed to justify the expense of relaxing again. Instead, my stylist simply said: “You are very late. Flip your head over.”
As my head was dipped in a tub full of freezing-cold water, then generously slathered with a jelly-like substance, I wondered what I had got myself into.
“Do you really think this will work?” I asked the stylist, Jacquai. “My curls are a lost cause.”
“No curly hair is hopeless,” she replied. “They just haven’t found a way to work with it, that’s all.”
After the hour was over, Jacquai had completed her work. She had styled my hair using only her hands, water and a mixture of organic potions.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing in the mirror: a naturally curly, Medusa-free me.
According to Jacquai, 75 percent of the population have a wave or curl in their hair and don’t know what to do with it. Men cut theirs short. Women flat-iron theirs to death.
When I browse through a beauty magazine or take the subway to work, it makes me sad to see so many people repressing their natural beauty.
Since I tamed my locks (头发), my world has changed. I have always been outgoing, but these days I seem to be more outspoken and confident than ever.
On top of that, friends and co-workers tell me I am looking better than ever, but they can’t tell the source of the change. I don’t need to tell them. My Medusa hair sways and speaks for herself.
