In order to be funny, one has to be hella smart. Stupid people just aren’t funny. It also helps if one is good looking. No, make that GREAT looking. (“Great looking?” Who says that?) Well, okay, you don’t really have to be hot to be funny, but it can’t hurt right? Fortunately for me, I know several smart-funny-hot people. And today I am bringing you a guest post by one of the smartest, funniest and GREAT lookingest women I know, Susan Klein — of the San Francisco Kleins. (Bio at end of post.)
Date: Summer of 2012. Place: My buttercream yellow sectional sofa in the seasonless Bay Area. On tv: The London Olympics; we’re swimming, swimming and swimming, with a sprinkling of so-called “womens” gymnastics, or as I refer to it, The Preteen Flea Circus. A few blurry weeks where I don’t remember what I watched (possibly I had houseguests?) Then, just like that, summer’s over. How do I know? Easy. Consult the tv. A few days of Convention One – the Red Guys; punctuated by the night of everyone calling Clint Eastwood a nut-job. A few days later, Convention Two – the Blue Guys. The night of everyone texting that damn, Bill Clinton was lookin’ fiiiine. And then, thankfully, would you look at that? It’s the new season of The Voice! Everyone hit the button and turn your chairs around, because it’s the Fall.
Do I sound apolitical? Irresponsible? Self-absorbed and apathetic? Lazy? Well, maybe a bit of all of the foregoing. I know there’s an election. And I promise I do care and I will vote. But mostly I’m tired. Upkeep –intellectual, cultural, or memetic – is a costly, exhausting enterprise. And this is exactly what I believe my girl Hillary Clinton was thinking this summer when one hot morning in some marble four-star hotel bathroom in Cairo? Gibraltar? Tehran? with a six-man Secret Service detail posted outside the door, she looked in the mirror, looked at the blow dryer in her hand, the half-empty jar of Bumble and Bumble Sumowax TM on the shelf, and the prospect of standing there pulling and burning that mop into a neat bob one more time, all the while her Blackberry is blinking away with ten new crises and said, “F*ck this. I am tired. I cannot keep up with this. I will not blow this sh*t out one more damn time.”
Yes, I’m talking about HRC’s newly long coif. Have you noticed? This most powerful woman in the country, perhaps in the world, she who has endured so much undeserved scrutiny for you name it – her tolerance of philandering, her shrill voice, her pantsuits, cankles, and receding chin, suddenly said, “that’s it, I’m just going to grow my hair out and just the hell with it.” I like to think it was a conscious statement with an added intention: “I’ll start growing it out this summer, and by the fall I’ll know if I want to keep it long.”
Is that how Hillary’s inner monologue sounds? I like to think so. I would have liked to be a fly on the wall the first day she stepped out of the hotel into the limo and maybe it was Huma who (probably silently, maybe not) thought. “Hmmmm, what’s up with the hair?” This would mean the US diplomatic corps devolve into Joan Rivers in the back of the plane, when Hillary gets on a long call. Maybe Chelsea took note? “Hey Mom, I just saw a photo in the Daily Beast. Are you, like, growing your hair?” Maybe it was a special request from Bill. Perhaps those closest didn’t notice because it was incremental.
But women like me, who work so hard at keeping up – we sit up and take immediate, vocal notice. I recall the first profile shot in the HuffPo, in the middle of the summer, where I spotted the long blond trail snaking over her collar and down her tweeded-jacket back. I did a double take. Was Hillary all right? Or was that an unmistakable first shot across the bow of the Good Ship Kemptness.
And it didn’t take long til the media, with their hungry hungry outlets, began to buzz.
You can Google “Hillary Clinton’s Long….” and before you go for the H, the algorithm helpfully completes “…Hair 2012” – almost winking at you in collusion.
Up they spring, the myriad photo galleries and the articles. From the Washington Post which calls the long hair no less than an “Act of Defiance”, to Tres Sugar, which deems it a Social Statement, to HuffPo which treated us to a full-length feature of Hillary’s hair styles through the ages.
I predict the SOS’s hair goes short again by Election Day. I think of it as the equivalent of an athlete’s Playoff Beard or Rally Beard. Hillary’s long hair is not an act of perdition, defiance, or social statement. It was a long summer, and just like me Girl Got Tired of Upkeep. Sometimes we need to borrow some space and clear it for more important things: in Hillary’s case, world peace. In mine, who gets onto Adam Levine’s team.
Susan Klein is a San Francisco-based marketer. She is situationally-attentive and indoorsy.
Categories: Guest Posts