It shouldn’t matter but it does. In my 40’s my hair thinned and split and didn’t regrow so plentifully. Vitamins, special shampoos and conditioners, special creams have yielded few changes. Genetics speaks louder, in the end. So. Each year the hair gets shorter, shorter, thinner. This last cut, I couldn’t even pretend to corral my hair into a bun for ballet class. And yet that’s what I do for ballet class. Really, it’s the weirdest thing, how deeply ingrained this is. My reflection in the mirror has a lot to do with it. That appealing bun look and shape behind me. I am not above using a bun-maker (kind of a mesh doughnut) that I simply set over my stub of a ponytail and keep in place with a hairnet and pins. In fact, these things rock!
Of late, though, even that just doesn’t make sense. The stub has grown too stubby. So. Bye, bye bun. Which was a sort of wrench.
There are people out there losing their hair to chemotherapy daily and I feel pretty darned sheepish about this whine. But hey. Why not be honest? Bun-grief. One more thing many an aging dancer has to accept. Hey. I should count myself lucky. I never got long-lasting bunions. (Did you ever notice that “bunion” has the word “bun” in it, and, indeed, they kind of look like little buns? In case you’ve never seen one or felt one, well, they’re ugly and they HURT and ballet dancers get them a lot.)
So. No bun for me, but good feet. I’ll call that a fair trade.
If you are one of those lucky people with long, luxuriously thick hair, well, enjoy that bunnage, so to speak. And if you’ve ever wondered how to make the best bun, check out this article, from my favorite to-go source, Dance Advantage: http://www.danceadvantage.net/perfect-ballet-bun/ on how to make a perfect, and painless bun. Or here’s what I used to do: braid my long hair and then pin the braid into place. OMG, soooo much easier than a twisty-hair bun. Give it a try.
But remember, most of all, in ballet class: it’s about the fun and not just the bun. Enjoy!