(This is not a picture of Grandma in her new wig.)
Last Wednesday, Grandma H decided we would add wig shopping to our to-do list.
Grandma H has a good head of hair, but she doesn’t like having to get it done every week. So she told me she would wear a wig in between hair appointments.
I’m on board because this sounds reasonable enough.
So we head to a wig store in Waterbury. Wigs range from $140-350. For a short haired wig?!
Are you kidding me?
I used to wig shop in LA and San Diego during my club kid days of some moons ago. A wig that went down to my bum cost me $50.
While we’re waiting to try on a wig, another shopper says to Grandma H, “That one looks good on you.”
I try not to laugh. Grandma H looks stunned.
I explain, “That’s her real hair.”
The lady looks suitably surprised. “Oh, well it looks nice.”
I love Grandma H but it looks overteased and hairsprayed. Nice is not in the realm of possibility.
Grandma H tries a few on to get an idea of the color and style she would like. But we can’t pay those kind of prices.
After the sticker shock, we decide to try another store. We head over to a less expensive hair place where the wigs go for $29.99. That’s reasonable.
Grandma H explains to me, “I plan to wear it like a hat. Just when I go out of the house.”
I try not to crack up at the image of her in a hair hat.
We end up finding two pretty nice wigs and get them for $58. (We got a little discount for buying both.)
Grandma H whispers, “I only have $40 on me.”
So I say, “I can spot you the money.”
Then I go make the purchase for her.
Later, we go to the scratch off place and Grandma H buys $20 in scratch offs. I forget that old ladies divide up their cash by their activities. God only knows how much she has in that purse divided amongst ten different purposes.
She ends up winning $50 recouping the cost of the ticket and one wig. It’s a good day for Grandma H.