Hair, hair, hair

Mom won't stop talking about my hair. Actually, she just did again, as I typed this:

Mom: Your hair doesn't look bad like that. It looks much better like that than it does when it's up. Just sayin'.

I washed my hair and left it down to dry. And every fifteen minutes...

Mom: Your hair looks better like that. It doesn't look good when it's up.

Mom: Your hair looks much better like that than up.

And so on. Once, I replied that I was nonetheless going to put my hair up to get it out of the way as needed. She said, "it's your call, but it looks better down."