The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1929-08-14
One Frank
Soul Finds
HBarba7-iC
BY ALENE SUMNER.

hkLANEs OONAANEANs
Ya little sardines and suffering
cats-the permanent wave craze is
reaching out even unto the babies
and sucklingsl
The 14-year-old child of the
family hied herself over to show
grandmother and aunt the result.
She thought it was grand, for her
nut-brown head was as like to her
mothers and aunt'S and every
female adult she knew as one pea
in the same pod could be ike an
other.
The medieval page effect Of
glossy brown hair fitting her
round little head like a casque
with smart bangs kitty-korner
over her white forehead had given
way to the electric friz known
permanent wave"
It'll Be Better
at would be better in day or
So" she explained passing on the
word of the operator" who had
kept her in a stuffy cubicle for six
hours converting her head into this
beathenish effect. 1.-The first finger
wave never stayed put" she ex-
planned. She might have to have
an oil treatment, but
The child was as pleased as when
she had her first pair of nude silk
hose exactly like her mothers and
her first sleeveless evening dress.
This is more than a diatribe
againt the so immediate blending
of childhood and maturity that
there is no gap; with bangs merg-
ing into permanent waves.
All Have Different Ideas
It is a little dissertation on
that thing called beauty.
Each decade has its standard.
Today's standard calls for perma-
nent waves. The old-faShiOned girl
who stubbornly chung to her glossy
straight hair, and insisted that she
liked it better than curls, that it
was more individual" slowly is
yielding to the Establishments OF the
permanent machine owner.
He laughs at her hesitation. The
whole business is so different in this
era of finger waving, he tells her.
One can't make a mistake; who
isn't improved by curling locks? And
no one can keep marcel in the
hot weather, going in swimming,
and all that.
Now it may be very possible that
they are right: that the era of the
frizzy permanent is dead and gone,
only, somehow, 1 never seem to
have the other kind.
And I announce to all the world
that I am as rabidly ''agin" perma-
ne1ts as Carrie Nation was against
cocktails.
The Wavy Way
I do not speak from the SNUG
position of the brighter than-thou
who has not fallen for the line.
The trouble is that 1 fell. Some
times I gaze upon my physiognomy,
with head attached, in the mirror,
and pensively wonder whether I
most resemble Jezebel, the witch of
Endor, the Circassian freaks of the
sideshow, or all three.
am a human mess, thanks to the
permanent. I can hardly wait for
it to grow out. Thank Jehovah, the
old hair grows fast. I am pro-
foundly grateful for that necessary
tWice-a-month trip to the barber
shop for a good thorough clipping.
I was one of those girls whose
friends told her that she could
wear her hair straight" Then I
got tired of believing them. Every
one else had permanent waves. Why
not I?
The Result
My barber told me that the way
my hair would take a permanent
would be little short of swell. 1
believed him. Even he quailed a
bit when the mechanism came off
and my hair appeared.
Its always like that at first" he
said. But it's no longer at first"
Now he tells me that am the sort
of girl who never should have a
permanent wave. But I did. And
my mathematics tell me that I'll
have to endure it almost to Christ
mas, to Halloween, anyway.
Just imagine how our descend
ants will laugh at old, unearthed
pictures of their female forebears
in the clutches of the permanent
wave machine-it will seem as bar
barrie as rings in noses seem to us
now.
But, honestly, is it any less funny,
and do we look any worse?
My idea of a good day is to go
down the street and find one head
that hasn't been through the
Wringer.