So I haven’t worn barrettes in my hair since I was five. The last pair I wore – yes, I remember – I pulled out of my hair just before I mounted the bus on my first day of Kindergarten. They were pink, plastic and flowery. And of course, they were sliding down my pin-straight hair. So I shoved them into my lunchbox and never wore them again. Fast-forward to last night: I’m running late for a dinner party (shocker). A big dinner party. A party being attended by myself, Latina Fashion Director Victoria Sanchez and our new Editorial Director Mimi Valdes Ryan–and some dozen or so major players from the fashion industry. So about 15 minutes before we’re supposed to leave the Latina offices, I step into my one special pair of silver Manolo pumps (a gift to myself when I quit my last job), my  purple Tadashi ruched dress, and a new purpley shade of Chanel lipstick. Then it came time for my hair. Updo? Down? Half-up? I wandered over to the hair styling bins we keep in our beauty closet (big drawers where we keep everything from hairspray to root touch-up) and started digging around until I uncovered a pair of sparkling rhinestone barrettes. Maybe I was desperate. Maybe I was running really late. But I parted my hair, and fastened the left side with a barrette. It was schoolgirl gone glam. Not bad! But throughout the night that damn barrette spent more time sliding down my hair than I spent sipping on mojitos. I lasted through dessert; then I took it off and shoved it into my purse, wistfully envious of all the thick, curly haired girls, like J.Lo, who could enjoy these lovely little adornments. When I got home at midnight, I made myself a Kindergarten-style peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich. Final grade: Party: A+; Hair: C-. Oh well. I’ll do better next time. –Anjelique Serrano

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