Let me tell you about Ms. Rapunzel.
Looking down on her ground-dwelling neighbours from the top of her twelve-story tower, which, by the way, violates height restrictions, noise ordinances, and three separate HOA bylaws, including 14B (No Excessive Dangling). Yet, somehow, Princess Hair-For-Days gets special exemption. Meanwhile, the poor old woman down the street is stuck living in a shoe because she can’t get the zoning permits to build a proper cottage. But Rapunzel?
“Sure ma’am, an oversized skyscraper in a residential neighbourhood? Sounds phallic – oops, I mean feasible.”
Privilege. Pure privilege.
Never leaves that tower either. Just sits up there all day while delivery wagons, courier pigeons and enchanted drones deliver breakfast, lunch, dinner and something called “midday hydration elixir.” I timed it once. She receives a package every 11.4 minutes. I haven’t had that kind of attention since my coloscopy.
And the hair products — my god, the hair products. Last week alone she got: Unicorn Mane™ Volumizing Sorcery Spray
Hydra-Hydra Hydra-Boost Triple Hydration Hydrating Hydrator
Dragonfire Ceramic Auto-Braiding Wand
RapunZest Citrus Shine Serum (her own brand, naturally)
47 feet of ethically sourced, cruelty-free hair extensions
Hair extensions? What even does she need hair extensions for? That’s like giving a water bottle to a fish.
Then there’s the man who visits the tower every Thursday at precisely 10:07 AM. Pulls up in a long black limousine. Middle-aged, tailored suit, hair slick with product and the vapid look of a fellow who spends his days spouting corporate slogans.
One Thursday I’m out mowing the lawn because, unlike some princesses, I don’t have a fairy godmother or a magical broom that sweeps itself. I switch off the mower when I see him emerge from her tower.
“You the butler?” I ask. I’m actually guessing sugar daddy.
He laughs. “Certainly not. I’m the president of Jorgen & Jorgen Haircare”
I blink at him. “You mean the shampoo people?”
He nods, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world for the president of a multinational corporation to be making customer house calls “All the finest products for your haircare needs.”
“So wait,” I ask, “Rapunzel has the president of Jorgen & Jorgen delivering products to her?”
“Well, no,” he says, adjusting his tie. “I don’t deliver the products per se.”
“Sure,” I reply. “Guess if I used enough shampoo each week to fill a tower moat, I’d get personal deliveries from the company president too.”
“Ms. Rapunzel is our global brand ambassador,” he answers, looking a bit offended. “And one of our senior product consultants.”
Consultant. Right. That’s when it hits me: She’s an influencer.
That’s what she does all day up there in her non-zone-conforming tower. Not reading, not embroidering, not waiting for princes or dealing with split ends like the rest of us mere mortals.
No, she’s livestreaming. All day, everyday. Sponsorships. Product demos. Haircare tutorials.
So, that’s what I’m hearing some days when I’m out gardening:
“Hey guys, welcome back to Locks Talks. Today we’re unboxing Unicorn Mane™ anti-frizz potion, I swear by this stuff. Use code RAPS10 at checkout.”
“And there’s good money in that?” I ask the Jorgen & Jorgen president.
He gives me a look. The kind of look people give when they’re pretty sure you’ve never purchased a fiefdom using a platinum card. Then he glances up, way up, at her twelve-story luxury tower. He doesn’t have to say anything. I get the message.
There’s good money in everything when you’ve got a river of golden locks that go on for days and your followers treat every follicle like gospel.