Peinate: Hair Battles Between Mothers & Daughters
Hoisted onto the cosmetology throne at Blanca’s Beauty Salon on Fifth Avenue, I was still so short that they’d added a wooden slab on the seat for me to reach the mirror. My mother hovered at my side. Blanca, a large buxom woman whose blond hair was coifed into a French roll, lopped my braid off with a pair of sharp scissors.
SNIP
I cried and everybody else in the room clapped. Through my tears in the mirror, I saw Blanca hand my braid over to my mother …
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