martinimade

Once upon a time, Lisa and Adrienne worked for the same alternative newsweekly. Now, both spend their respective lives mining their creative souls and leading hermit-like lives. And so an idea was hatched. Every week, one would send the other a sketch—either in illustration or word form—and the other would make a companion to the sketch. The result would be posted on both their blogs every week, just for grins. Even if the result isn't award-worthy, the exercise makes both minds more nimble. Hopefully.

It was a slow day down at Nita’s Wig Shoppe. No one even came in to try on the Tammy Wynette, which Nita always kept in the window, like a big blonde beacon that drew the Southern girls and drag queens to her Shoppe’s shores. 

But today, nada. No calls. No shoppers. No browsers. Quiet as a church, which it kinda was, Nita thought, if your God was fake hair. 

It didn’t matter your denomination. Nita’s blank, white styrofoam heads, tiered clear up to the 12’ ceiling, held hair short and long and in between. She had mullets and bobs and, indeed, weaves. Name your celebrity and she had their hair. Worship in whatever manner you choose. 

Be sure to bring cash, though. Nita doesn’t cotton to credit and knows your check is no good.

Text ©Adrienne Martini; illustration ©Lisa Horstman. Until the end of time. Or something.