When I was in middle school, in the 1970s, my mom used to give me Toni permanents. They came in a box just like this and inside was a pamphlet that displayed photos of different hairdos. All of these, it promised could be magically achieved if you rolled your hair a certain way. I would take the pamphlet to my orange-flowered bedroom with its amazing orange, avocado green and gold shag carpeting and carefully study the photos of the pretty models. My favorite, I remember, was a lady with gently waving curls and a flower tucked behind one ear - very Hawaiian chic. In my mind, I imagined that I was that woman - a flower in my hair - the hit of Wolcott Junior High School. My mom would lay out all of the necessary supplies and carefully wind each bit of my thick dark brown hair around the spindly pastel colored rollers. Then, she'd squirt each roller with a noxious smelling liquid that would make my head feel icy cold. And, then, we'd wait. And wait some more. The b...