“LA DOÑA”
Looking back, I can’t believe I did it all those years ago—I went from the Ripley to having the longest hair I’d had since high school. There were some bumps in the road—some trims, some chops here and there, a couple of at-home dye jobs—but I made it. With my newly long hair, I perfected a look that I dubbed “La Doña.” (Doña is a Spanish term of respect for a woman.) My father has always called me “Doña Luisa,” and this ‘do, I felt, was worthy. Fresh out of the shower, I would part my hair in the middle, pull it back tightly, and twist it in the back into a bun. Suddenly, I wasn’t a cute little Pixie again—I was someone to be reckoned with. The middle-part and severe shape, accompanied by dark lipstick, made me look—quite frankly—like a bad-ass. One might think that at any moment, I could whip out a rolling pin, either to create homemade flautas or to open a can of whoop-ass—or both.
