Help! My scarves are choking me.

The inscription on my tombstone will be simple:  She finally quit complaining about her hair. She was organized. As a young girl and even later as a teenager, I never had a messy bedroom. My bed was made every morning. My single bottle of Evening in Paris and two bottles of Cutex nail polish were neatly lined up on my "roxatoned" dresser. My spartan wardrobe was carefully organized on hooks behind my bedroom door (the house was built in the 1880s and had no closets). In the late sixties when…

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