Natural Beauty by Bethany Kestner

Anyone who has ever been into a hair salon has seen one. The big books full of head shots of models with their hair tweaked and twisted, defying gravity in six different directions. I had always wondered why those books were there? My only guess was that they were meant to give customers ideas as to how they would like their hair cut and styled, but unless a client was a high-fashion model strutting down a runway in Milan, why would they want their hair to look like it could take an eye out? I'd never seen anyone don such an outrageous hairstyle as could be found in those salon books.


And then I moved to Utah.

My husband and I came from a town where hairspray and gel were used minimally, if at all. Perhaps it was because the interminable rain would wash out any product and leave a sticky stream running down one's face and neck, so there was no point in trying a "salon book style" anyway. Living in Utah showed us that people were, in fact, putting the ideas in those books to practical use. We now spend a lot of our time in public pointing out "Utah hair" to each other, each of us trying to find the ultimate specimen. We are not natives here, and the practices in hair styling have us baffled.

Over time, a few of the more popular styles have earned names. There is The Hedgehog, which is when a woman spikes her hair straight up, out and all over, usually with the bangs slicked to one side - the only part of the hair that isn't sticking out with the aid of something akin to Elmer's glue. There is also The Skunk, which is my husband's personal favorite. The bottom layers of hair are dark brown or black, (with or without the aid of dye), and the top layer of hair is bleached platinum blond. Both of these styles undeniably detract from a woman's real beauty. With hair that leaves passers-by gawking, it's hard to even notice a woman's face.

Last year we enrolled our son in our community's soccer league. He was assigned to a team, and on the appointed day the team gathered at a park to get organized and hand out team shirts. The boys all huddled around the coach while the parents got acquainted. The other moms and I got to talking about what schools our kindergartners would be attending in the fall and which teachers they had been assigned.

"My son is in Mrs. So-and-So's class," one mother told me. "She looks a bit 'natural', but I think she'll be okay." I was a little confused by her comment, until I met that teacher a few days later and realized that by "natural" she had meant that the teacher wore little make-up, pulled her single color hair back into a simple clip, and was dressed in a flowing, unfitted khaki skirt. That particular mother must have figured that a teacher's style was a key element in her ability to educate. If my son had been in her class, I wouldn't have fretted too much. Mrs. So-and-so wasn't wearing a hemp necklace or a bandanna, so I'm sure that her students were taught the approved curriculum and not hippie love songs or how legalizing marijuana could benefit society. My soccer-mom friend need not have worried over the teacher's hair or clothing.

Over the past few months, my husband and I have noticed the bitter-sweet dwindling of "Utah hair". While we are saddened at the depleted entertainment, we are pleased to find that fewer women in our state feel that they need to go to the extreme with their hair in order to be beautiful. In fact, I find that the softer, less extravagant styles make it easier to notice a woman's real beauty.

As women, we tend to determine our worth by looking at our neighbors and assessing who looks better in their designer jeans, who has the most chic hair, or who's eyeliner is painted on with the most dramatic results. In reality, less is usually more. It is very encouraging to see a woman who applies subtle make-up, emphasizing just one of her features rather than flashing all of them at once in a gory misuse of eyeshadow, blush and lip-liner. I love to see a woman's hair move when a breeze whispers by, instead of plastered-stiff helmet hair that can take a beating from wind and rain without relenting it's crispy shape.

Maybe I will mourn the loss of giggling opportunities as the "Utah hair" becomes extinct, but it's nice to see that more Utah women are discovering that natural beauty might actually be more stylish than the artificial creations they work so hard to sculpt on their heads and faces. It's always good to be true to yourself and to your own style, it's nice to be noticed and look your best - but your best self is probably the one that allows people to see the real you; without the aid of every aerosol can in the county.