Tag Archives: hairstyles

Oribi Mom: Yellowed Collars, Old Photos and Time Passing

“Ordering school photos might not be a thing in a few more years. I think I’ll miss it.”

May 16, 2024

How do you get sun-cream stains out of white school shirt collars? Tell me you’re a mother without telling me you’re one.

Apparently, a combo of baking soda, vinegar and fairy dust works. Other suggestions that have come up on searches included toothpaste, lemon juice, sunshine and a paste of Vanish. The collars are still yellow.

Maybe it’s the hard water on the farm here. Maybe it’s my woefully lacking knowledge of the types of material and what each needs to stay sparkling white.

Don’t bleach it, say the eco-conscious and the health nuts. (Also, this fades out the school badge!)

So, on photo day, it’s the least yellow collar that went on, alongside a hope and a prayer that Photoshop includes whitening collars in annual photo shoots. Say cheese, but don’t spill any of the yellow onto the collar, please.

These school photos really are something. It’s one day a year, but from my own school career, it was often the only photo.

I came from the era before digital photos. That time when mommies who could attend sports or other events had to bring a tripod or a steady hand and an extra spool to capture one or two good images of us precious darlings. Sports photos? Hopeless.

I have vivid memories of walking into Clicks to collect that little packet of developed photos. It smelled funny. Mom would flip through the photos and laugh or snort at the blurs, missed shots, and fingers in front of the lens. She’d take the good ones and put them into real-life albums with sticky plastic things you lift up.

When they get old, the photos don’t stay behind them anymore and get all mixed up when you take the photo album off the dusty bookshelf. But the images are still there. Immortal, for a while. That eighties hair on my friends’ moms was something else, I tell you. Perms, beehives, and bright colours stand out, even in faraway group photos.

It jogs the memory, even if you have to flip back a few pages to slip the lost photo into its correct place. In the history of things, photos feel like treasure to me. A silent glimpse into what’s come and gone that speaks far louder than many of the stories people tell.

Ordering school photos might not be a thing in a few more years. I think I’ll miss it.

Oh, and the answer is that green sunlight soap bar, of course. That’s the cure for yellow stains and everything else you want to sparkle.

Publish here.

Oribi Mom: A Nod to the Neighbours

“There’s still room for the good old days of community doing life together out of homes and garages.”

Isn’t it crazy to think that I’ve been going to the same hairdresser for the last twenty years? I didn’t ever think I’d be old enough to have these kinds of revelations, but here we are.

She cut my hair like Jennifer Aniston when I was fifteen. At thirty-six l have to admit that it’s always been my favourite style and I keep going back to those Hollywood layers.

Neighbourly Relationships Take Time But They’re Worth It

That’s not to say we haven’t had a journey. Like the time she cut my thick hair into a bob and I realized that it was the most irritating style I could ever have chosen. It’s impossible to tie up and hangs down into my face. I also have a curl to the one side at the back that makes a bob untidy whether I’ve brushed or blow-dried it.

Then there was the time that I came home, a new bride wanting a change. Pixie cuts are fun but only if your new husband is onboard with the drastic new look! If not, there may or may not be a few days of tense staring as he grieves the long locks he married. Don’t worry; it grew back and we’re heading towards our fifteenth anniversary.

You Miss The Neighbours When They Aren’t There Anymore

We also moved overseas for a little bit to teach English. Have you ever tried to have a haircut in a fancy-looking salon where not a soul speaks English? Pointing, gestures, nods, and smiles were not quite enough to explain the details of what I needed.

That Korean hairdresser ripped my ends to shreds with a blade and charged me more than I have ever paid for a haircut. It was a long year waiting to get back to my good old neighbourhood hairdresser so that she could fix up the mess. Fifteen minutes is all she needs to work miracles that grow out beautifully and look amazing.

These things remind me how special it is to have people like this in our lives. Neighbours who are hairdressers, coffee sellers, beauticians, travelling nurses, piano teachers, educational toy entrepreneurs, frozen meal chefs, and so much more.

There’s still room for the good old days of community doing life together out of homes and garages. There’s still a good reason to chat to the neighbours over the fence and see how we can help each other. You might even find yourself twenty years down the line appreciating how far you’ve come together.

Published here.