I well remember the day that Mom and her friend/hairstylist Sherri cracked the code with Mom’s baby-fine hair.
“We call it the ‘Doris Day Do’,” Mom said. “It takes a lot of hairspray. I can’t do it myself, but Sherri will do it for me once a week.”
It was somewhat like this:
… that’s how it looked on Doris Day, anyway. This is how it looked on Mom (after a week of sleeping on it and a day of gardening):
It’s coming apart a bit in her photo, but essentially it was a lot of hair teasing, especially at the crown, plus hairspray and bobby pins. It looked quite nice on her (photo above nonwithstanding).
Of course, only someone “lucky” enough to have baby-fine hair could make it defy gravity well enough to stay in an up-do for a solid week. You know Doris Day with her healthy hair sneezed once and it all sprang apart.
I have a definite bald spot now at my crown, and I have to use a lot of hairspray to arrange the strands so they cover my pasty white scalp.
I finally gave in and adopted my Mom’s hairstyle. That’s a turning point.
Now all I have to do is constantly keep my nose in the air, as in the photo above. It stretches the wattle.