I Hate Big Purchases but I Spent a Ton of Money on a Wig

I am learning to invest in myself

A Secret Mission

I took a late lunch and slipped out of work on a secret mission. I didn’t tell my coworkers, husband, children, or friends. I kept the plan a secret for two reasons.

One is that I was worried my husband would stop me from making what was going to be a relatively costly purchase and two was that I felt silly.

I wasn’t sure what was going to happen. What I was about to do was going to be exciting or awkward. I was up for either.

When I arrived I hesitated, wondering if I should put the key back in the ignition and send a, “Something came up at work!” text.

I didn’t though.

It was the right decision.

The place was adorable. Comfy and stylish chairs, lamps, and pillows from a Pinterest board. I was led down the stairs and into a small room with bright lights and brick walls with copper tile ceiling treatment. I took a seat in a stuffed black and gold chair. I felt as though I’d entered a speakeasy — for wigs.

Velma with a Guinea Pig on My Head

I spent months looking at wigs online, watching Facebook live shows, and reading posts from wig buyers. I visited a friend who allowed me to try on several of her own wigs, sharing advice and tips. After days of putting wigs in my virtual shopping cart to only remove them the next day, I finally entered my credit card and hoped for the best.

The six-day wait was excruciating and when the package arrived, I couldn’t wait for my transformation to begin.

Except it didn’t. I was so disappointed. The wig made me look like Velma with a guinea pig on my head. It was too much hair for my thin and petite face and head. The wig was cheap as far as wig prices go so I knew I got what I paid for. Despite my hairstylist doing her best to thin and sculpt the wig, I couldn’t get the courage to wear it out and my family told me they were openly embarrassed to be seen with me.

I packed the wig back in the bag but I continued to surf the wig web looking for Mrs. Right.

Wigs are NON-REFUNDABLE

I am a kinesthetic learner who relies on the use of my five senses. Watching Facebook Lives of women flipping fake hair on their heads and tossing it around wasn’t helping me decide if wearing a wig was right for me, and certainly wasn’t helping me decide which was the right one for me either.

The ultimate staller is the fact that wigs are NON-REFUNDABLE. Sure there are tons of resell sites but listing requires time, energy, and likely money lost.

I like to buy my clothes and shoes in person. I can never imagine ordering glasses online and the only items I buy on Amazon are Tide Pods and coffee. How could I buy something as important as a wig without seeing it, feeling it, and most importantly, trying it on?

I Kept Coming Back to One

I found one store within a 100-mile radius of my house, fortunately, located not far from my office and down the road from a dear friend who I trust with my life. I told the store owner in advance that I wasn’t sure I would commit to a purchase and didn’t want to waste her time, but she encouraged me to come anyway.

I braced myself for the wig equivalent of cringe-worthy swimsuit shopping.

Within minutes my friend and I joined the owner in pulling wigs off of mannequin heads. I didn’t see many with my shade of dark brown and the owner discouraged me from trying on any with extremely long tresses.

When it was time for the try-on portion of the mission, the owner instructed me to remove my glasses and tuck my head toward my chest. She showed me how to flip the wig inside out and place the front close to the bridge of my nose. Standing behind me she helped me gently slide the wig back to the nape of my neck.

While she adjusted each wig, my heart pounded and I felt flutters in my stomach. She asked me to remove my glasses. I can’t see more than 3 inches in front of me without them. After making small adjustments to align the wigs appropriately on my head, I put my glasses on and stared at myself.

I turned my head left and right and swiveled in the chair holding a hand mirror to inspect the back. I tilted my head down and side to side.

I smiled. I laughed nervously.

I looked at my friend in apprehension. I knew her face wouldn’t lie to me.

Some wigs looked ok. Some were ok but not my style. Several I really liked.

Out of a dozen options, I kept coming back to a stick straight ombre blonde bob.

At first, I decided I loved the cut and shape and asked if another color could be ordered but we all agreed the blonde was pretty awesome and looked great on me. It was also soft, lightweight, and felt barely -there.

Wearing the wig, we went outside so I could see the wig in the natural light. I liked it even more. It was serendipity. Me being at this wig shop. The wig being available. Me having a credit card. My husband not knowing where I was.

It just felt right.

“Are you ready?” the owner asked as I shimmied my shoulders and tossed the synthetic locks with a newfound glimmer in my eye.

Twenty minutes later I left the shop with a box packed lovingly in a gift bag with pink and blue tissue sticking out of the top.

I Pushed Buyer’s Remorse Out of My Mind

The adrenaline rush lasted through the hour-long drive. I called my mom giddy to share the news but also used the conversation as a distraction.

The wig was really expensive.

The wig is NON-REFUNDABLE.

I pushed the buyer’s remorse out of my mind.

When I returned home the family largely ignored my return. I stepped into the bathroom with my box. I washed my hands which began to shake as I removed the tissue and then the box. I carefully lifted the wig and placed it on my head as instructed. After adjusting, I placed my glasses on and stared in the mirror.

Yes, we can radiate from the inside. Yes, we want people to see us for our souls and we shouldn’t care about how we look, especially as we age.

Yet, who are we to judge what makes people feel good about themselves?

As I looked at my reflection, I grabbed my phone and snapped a photo of me looking in the mirror.

I looked at the image I’d taken. My chin was tilted slightly up. My eyes were closed and I was smiling. At that moment I didn’t need to see myself because all that mattered was how I felt.

And I felt beautiful.

Copyright Melissa Marietta

Read more about my experience with the first wig: