I wore a headpiece to a wedding recently, and I think I’m a changed woman.
I’ve always known the power of hair, and I am one of those women who has experimented with my fair share of looks over the years. I got my first highlights at age 11. I’d have questions for my Mum, but it was 2004.
Next, I tried pink tips. Then a box-dyed ketchup red for 2 years, followed by a bob cut, platinum blonde, then balayage. After that long and au naturel, just in time for my nuptials, then on to an edgy dark angled bob, only to come full circle back to a full head of highlights (extremely high maintenance, don’t recommend).
My focus, looking back, was generally on the colour, rather than the style. For events, so long as my colour was looking fresh, I wouldn’t deviate much from the standard updo or blow-dry.
Enter 2026. I’m in my “au naturel” era again. Undyed, untreated, and my hair has never looked lusher. I blame it on my children – ain’t nobody got time to sit in a chair for 3 hours. The length itself is now my ‘edge’, and honestly, I don’t know how that happened, because post-partum hair loss after baby number 2 was rouuggghh. I guess I just … stopped messing with it? Dyeing is known to damage hair big time, so why do so many of us do it, and for so many years?
I digress. I’m no longer dyeing my hair or have any interesting cut to speak of, so how does one make your hair look “interesting” or “stylish” under these conditions?
Recently, this dilemma was met with an opportunity. I was set to attend a très chic wedding abroad. I had a figure-flattering dress at the ready, but that was it. A bit intimidated by my anticipation of a super artsy crowd at said wedding, I set out to step up my game and deliberated for weeks on how exactly I could take my outfit up a notch. Then I saw it. A friend of mine (or casual employer, wink), Monique Chambers, posted a video of herself wearing a stunning headband: laser-cut violet metal florals arranged in an avant-garde constellation. It was a bit daring – it was just what my lime-green frock was missing.
I reached out to borrow it (she practically threw it at me), and 2 weeks later it’s in my suitcase on the way to Bologna for a 2-night wedding weekender.
Even as I dressed myself for the ceremony, I had my doubts. I’m reaalllyyy NOT a headpiece kind of girl. Like, never in my life. I couldn’t even wear a lousy piece of tulle in my hair on my wedding day. But I pressed on – these other guests are gonna look sensational. Get it together!
Makeup done, I moved to setting the headband in just the right position on my head, and tied the ribbon to secure it in place. Then, with 15 minutes left until our transport arrived, I scrambled to arrange some semblance of a pretty updo around it, desperately poking in bobby pins at random while praying to the hair gods.
My husband calls out with the time check – 5 minutes. I beckon him over. How does it look? Silence. Well??!! Silence. SAY SOMETHING!! As a response, he takes a picture to “show me and let me decide for myself”. I look. I curse out a loud single syllable. It looks like a rat’s nest got tangled in a wad of cotton candy. Now I’m really in trouble. This was a terrible idea. I hastily remove all the pins, holding back tears, panting, when all of a sudden, with all my hair down in all its natural glory, I suddenly see that the headband alone, placed on my head, is actually all I needed to do. It’s actually… perfect. 1 minute. Heels on, out the hotel room door.
I step into the elevator down the hall, and get my first compliment for it from another guest I’ve never met. It was so sincere, so unsolicited, I almost let out those earlier tears in relief.
Here I was overthinking the whole hairdo, like I always did, rather than letting the accessory carry that burden for me. What sorcery is this?
Throughout the luscious festivities, I found myself sauntering about with a newfound swagger that only a last-minute stroke of panic-turned-luck can deliver.
All from a pretty headband.
Turns out the trick was never the accessory itself – it was the two minutes before I left the bathroom, when I almost took it off and talked myself out of the whole thing. I’d spent years letting my hair colour do all the experimenting for me, too timid to try anything that might actually get noticed.
I said ‘Yes’ to the headband. Next time something makes you hesitate, say yes anyway.
