December 2025

Holiday Hair Update
by Stephanie Kemp



One Day in December, 2025

4:41am

Here are some things I have recently heard about my real hair when I try not to wear my hat with fake hair (all of the time except when sleeping):

Wow.
Oh my god!
It’s so:

…cute!
…curly!
…brown.

I actually like it.
I’m serious.

It’s going to look so good!
(It’s still growing, right?)

You are so………………………..lucky.
Have you tried product?

Have you ever heard of pin curls?
Would you ever learn to do pin curls?
Could you do pin curls?

You could shave it off again and then it might not come back so curly.

Well…sometimes it doesn’t come back at all.

At least there’s no gray.

They make tiny straightening irons, you know.

Does blow drying help?

What if you wear a beanie while your hair is wet?

You should just never wash it.

What does Brenton say?

Who cares?
Fuck it.

(Can I ask you a question?)
(Did you have cancer?)

This is not me being mad at anyone I love or like (or anyone I don’t know well or have never met) who is trying to be nice about my hair.

I.
Just.
Don’t.
Want.
To.
Talk.
About.
My.
Hair.

This is also just me (still) being more comfortable (and liking how I look) wearing my comfy (Irish) hat with hair. Especially now that it is cold and Christmas-y (again) and my cancer is (still) in remission.

(My cancer is still in remission! and I still bury the lede, although in fairness I haven’t actually met with the clinical trial doctor yet about the most recent scans, so you  - or I - really can’t blame me.)

In the meantime and in other news (maybe I will even turn this into one of those Holiday Letters! I used to make fun of when I was a young idiot), I am doing all the December Things.

Some of these I am doing badly, as I still hate shopping and committing to social plans, but I am trying. And after last year, while I was mostly sideways and attached to a cord, I am loving how it feels to do them.

I mostly love the little things: being able to lend my neighbor an egg, filling up the drawers of the advent calendar with tiny candies and stones from the beach, stocking up our neighborhood’s “Trinket Trove” version of a free library with tiny notebooks and mini trophies.

I love pretending I will have everyone over for wine and soup once I’m done baking things for people who probably don’t want to eat that much sugar.

(That said, delivering things and having lots of catch up conversations still feels daunting. I am working on this, but maybe keep it in your back pocket if I show up on your stoop with a smile that looks too big for my face or I ding dong delivery ditch you. If I do get my shit together to invite you over for soup or wine you will probably be safe.)

My favorite thing is seeing the Christmas tree first thing in the morning, back in its normal spot near the fireplace holding ornaments that have become time capsules of my entire life. (My husband is Jewish, but has quality not quantity ornamental representation…..I also love our chanukiah, in case you were wondering.)

Every day I wake up like a newborn kitten, excited to do whatever I want, even if I accidentally scratch or confuse a few people (including me) as I figure out what works and what doesn’t, fine-tuning the mechanics of my paws. I am truly sorry if I hurt you.

A perfect day can be (and usually is) as simple as:

Coffee with husband
Breakfast with daughter
Walk after drop off
Sit down and write

Try to reach out to people I miss (or maybe I will do that tomorrow)

Eat things (maybe too many) that taste so fucking good again

Clean something (or a lot of things)

Sleep a little bit, by choice or accident

Pick up the kid and then go for a(nother) walk, hopefully with her

Have the world’s best dinner (maybe) with some wine

Hope the Duraflame burns (we got a bad box)

Count down the days until the other kid is home

Read
Get excited about the next day

Maybe I will even jump in the car and drive to Las Vegas to tell our friend Andrea how excited we still are to do that project because I can still drive to Las Vegas and we can still do the project with our friend, Andrea!

Now that I’ve read this back (and because I don’t want to write anymore since I smell coffee), I will leave you with this most recent hair update. (Let’s face it, I am never going to be done having some version of this conversation, even if/when my real hair does come back, as evidenced by the photo below, which very fairly represents the hair I miss so much):


I currently most resemble a late season Mike Brady, (when he had the perm) possibly en route to Bob Ross (my friend even gave me a Bob Ross magnet) via Malcolm Gladwell (but only when I am well rested and wearing my glasses).


I am excited for that moment people describe where the weight of post “chemo curl” hair growth starts to tame the chaos....when gravity kicks in, bringing everything down a notch……or a hundred.  

I share this update with the hope that you will understand why I still wear my hat. If you keep pushing me to ditch the hat (even with the best intentions), I’m afraid I will have no choice but to bring out this zinger and stop you in your tracks:

I am wearing my hat because my real hair currently looks like something that rhymes with cubic frown.  

Don’t worry. This will probably only be said if we have had some wine or you are one of my best friends. (And it’s only true when my hair is clean, so very rarely and no offense to Mike Brady, Bob Ross or Malcolm Gladwell.... all of whom I admire very much.)

I hope it never comes to that.

Especially because I know that holidays are hard for everyone.

Just like it is hard to talk about Cancer....

Merry Christmas.

Love,
Stephanie

ps. I did get to go to my high school reunion, in case you were wondering! (Separate essay, but thank you for asking....or caring.....or reading this far/sticking with me. I had a blast.)