On Easter Sunday, I opted to go to my home church and then lunch with my family. Through a series of events, David (my husband) and I ended up separated. So I was going to face my family alone.
I only have one tam, a billed tan-and-green affair, so I selected an outfit that went with that, hoop earrings, and an orange headband that threw some color on my army green array. Something that exemplifies my semi-casual somewhat military style. I'm actually wearing it in my dread-one-week-birthday pictures in the post below. I also had a hemp necklace that I haven't worn for a while, but really fit with the outfit. I tried to use the Lock Sculpta to clean up my dreads, and made sure to wash them the night before so I wouldn't have to worry about them being dry on Sunday morning.
Armed with my tam, I headed out.
Now, I thought wearing a tam was like a proclamation that I had some sort of unusual hair secreted underneath. I think my immediate family were the only ones who actually got it, armed with the knowledge that I had done something unspeakable to my hair. Various acquaintances at church seemed completely oblivious to the fact that it was anything other than a strange hat choice.
Mom
Then I had a chance to talk to my mom before church started. I told her a bit about what was going on in my life (aside from dreads), and then broached the topic. I took off my tam and shook out my dreadies. Mom asked me to leave the hat on for the rest of the time. She couldn't understand why anyone would want their hair to look like that. "Well, maybe someone your age," she relented when I told her other people thought it was cool. In despair for my common sense, she sent me to get my seat in church. Later, she quoted someone saying that white-people hair doesn't lock until ten months, so she will willingly pay to hire someone to comb my hair out if I change my mind. I'm getting an inkling that she doesn't like my hair.
Brother Andrew
I had found out on Twitter the day before that my brother Andrew, a self-admitted urban hipster, was home for this weekend as well. I knew he knew. And his only expressed opinion on dreads was a comment on my other blog, saying "Don't get dreads! you are a pretty girl! Anyone with dreads looks more attractive without dreads! (ie: Nathan K., Holly J., Bob Marley...)" Later that night, for I stayed the night, he asked me who on earth my inspiration was because he couldn't think of anyone who pulled dreads off. I guess I don't really have one.
Brother Jacob
Jacob, my high schooler brother, didn't say much for or against. He just begged me to take off my tam and came over and touched them later. I think he was disappointed that they still have a aura of stickiness from the wax or whatever is in there. I didn't put any Locking Accelerator on after the last shower.
The Grandparents
My grandparents came for dinner. Thankfully, they can't recognize "rasta hats" as Andrew calls tams, and they had no idea I was doing anything but wearing an odd hat, for me anyway. Thankfully, none of my immediate family deigned to tell them. What Grandma doesn't know won't hurt her. Although, I'm going to have to keep Facebook mum for a while... she just started using that on her new Kindle Fire.
Dad
Dad knows. I know Dad knows. And Mom told me Dad's opinion was the same as hers. But I have been too chicken to ask. Neither of us have said a word on the subject.
But in the good news, my in-laws seem to think that I am somewhere between eccentric and cool. The report is that even my mother-in-law was heard saying she thinks it is cool that I got them. And that's a good thing.
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