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It was during my first solo trip to Israel that the idea of head covering as a regular routine first occurred to me.I was a Barnard sophomore wavering between my yeshiva day-school upbringing and the liberal, humanist, and nonreligious philosophy favored by my professors and fellow students.Starting today, then, we are asking people who'd like to post comments on the site to pay a nominal fee—less a paywall than a gesture of your own commitment to the cause of great conversation. Readers can still interact with us free of charge via Facebook, Twitter, and our other social media channels, or write to us at [email protected]
A man like that would insist on bride who covered her hair. After long days spent parsing Rashi’s commentaries at a women’s yeshiva, I stood at the mirror in my drab single-girl apartment looping the ends of a headscarf together like a tiara, dreaming of the day when my hair would go under wraps for good.
Since I already have a band fall, the sheitelmacher suggested this.
Priced at 0, as opposed to up to four times that price for a regular wig, it almost seemed like a steal.
To pilfer a phrase from the late Nora Ephron, I feel bad about my sheitel, the matron’s wig I wear for religious reasons.
The one I’ve been wearing for the past four years is part of the problem: Not only is the cut dated, the hair has gotten so stiff and dry that it could probably be mowed into toothbrush bristles. I like looking Orthodox; if I were a man, I’d probably sport a full beard, peyes, and a black hat.
I ordered one over the telephone sight unseen, but on its Styrofoam wig head, it looked like the front of a Lhasa Apso pup.