The harried blown away by ill wind
Any decent writer who has spent time in Los Angeles has something to say about the Santa Anas. Raymond Chandler probably put it best -- on Santa Ana nights, “every booze party ends in a fight. Meek little wives feel the edge of the carving knife and study their husbands’ necks” -- but Nathanael West and Joan Didion did OK too, the latter filling pages of her Los Angeles notebook with observations about “the wind that shows us how close to the edge we are.”
These folks, and many others, blame the Santa Anas for myriad ills and occasions of mayhem, for fire and murder, car wrecks and ill-tempered exchanges at the galleria. And few Angelenos would deny feeling a bit odd during the weeks when the sky is scoured mercilessly clear and dust chokes every corner of the house.
But the bad behavior is not because of the wind, it’s because of the hair.
There is nothing worse than Santa Ana hair. Ringlets unravel, waves go dead calm, fluffy bangs dangle into sun-squinting eyes and folks with naturally straight fine hair look like they’ve stuck a finger in an electric socket. Conditioners make it worse, gel makes it wet, and most of us don’t have the chutzpah to wear a cloche or a pillbox to the office.
So essentially, you’re looking at 16 million people, many with self-image and anger-management issues to begin with, sharing a bad hair month. And just in time for the holidays.
Really, it’s a miracle any of us are still alive.
Women rush to their local salons, where even the most sophisticated tress technician can do little but shrug and hand them a scrunchy.
“These are the days you definitely put your hair up,” says Antonia Hillard, who runs Antonia’s in Beverly Hills. “Don’t wash it. This is the time you really work those French twists, those ponytails, those hair ornaments you never use.”
Just what a 45-year-old bank executive wants to hear -- work that ponytail.
If the women resignedly start reaching for the hair clips in early November, the men who slide into Joe Torrenueva’s chair at Torrenueva of Beverly Hills, are inevitably baffled. “I have [male] clients come in and say, ‘What the heck is going on?’ I say, ‘It’s the winds.’ I put on a little bit of gel and a tiny bit of hairspray.” For men with comb-overs, the solution is even simpler. “They just pray,” he says.
“I’ve seen people on the street corners and their hair is literally crackling,” says Stuart Galvert of Galvert Atelier. “We hear a lot of people complaining about the devil winds. We also have people who are happy about it.”
Who?
“Those with curly hair that tends to frizz, they get a blow dry and it lasts four days.”
But even those among the fortunate few not afflicted by Santa Ana hair are stuck with Santa Ana skin. Consider the effect Chandler’s “red wind” has on the local flora. It sucks every bit of moisture from trees and brush and the next thing you know Malibu and the Verdugo Hills are on fire. Again. If that’s what happens to a eucalyptus grove, just imagine the effect on the more delicate flowers among us.
Legs itch, faces feel tight and old, lips are constantly dry, and the skin beneath many wedding rings is suddenly irritated in what could be considered a dangerously symbolic way. Perfume evaporates in the time it takes to walk to the office from the car, lipstick disappears in an hour, and desks are suddenly cluttered with tins of Bag Balm and bottles of Corn Huskers Lotion.
“I’ve had a lot more people in talking about fine lines,” says Rebecca Carey, who works at the Clinique counter of the Glendale Galleria Macy’s. “People always start upping their moisturizers this time of year.”
Yes, she adds, they’re moving a lot of Definitely Different Moisturizer in the really big bottles, but the hottest sellers are a product called Moisture Surge Extra -- Moisture Surge, don’t you feel better just hearing it? -- and, of course, their anti-aging serum.
But Carey isn’t sure the Santa Anas are solely to blame for the problem. “I think people are feeling very stressed because of the economy,” she says. “And when people are stressed, their skin is stressed.”
Which is a rather discouraging thought. The Santa Anas may be maddening to live through, but they do tidy up the skyline and make the sunsets lovely. And more important, they almost always blow themselves out by Christmas.
