Divas across Dixie are dancing in the streets and I am leading the celebration.

It's all over the national news. Or haven't you heard?

Big hair is back! It's the day that I and other creatures with similar

frivolities have been dreaming of for years.

This mammoth news comes straight from the runways of Paris, the very runways

that dictate trends for those in Athens, Ga.

It's BIG news. Big enough that, in my opinion, it goes a long way in

redeeming the disloyal French. This is capable of wiping away a multitude

of sins.

As soon as I heard the news, I raced to phone and hit the speed dial numbers

of all my friends who were certain to be overjoyed. I even called the one

who stole my boyfriend when we were in the 11th grade. It was such happy

news and lifted my spirits so high that at last, after all these years, I

could forgive her.

"You're not mistaken, are you?" Karen, my friend, asked breathlessly. "Please

don't get my hopes up."

Karen was the last to give up big hair, something she was able to do because

she's an entertainer and they always break the rules. Finally, she gave

it up but has been in severe mourning in the years hence. Her heart pounded

wildly to think that her bereavement period was nearing an end.

Southern women are renowned for our hair. There have been many hairdressers

who fell at our feet and wept with admiration. On one television show I did

in Los Angeles, the hair stylist who had complimented my hair in the make-up

room, was waiting on the set for last minute checks.

As someone checked my mike, the stylist said, "I just love your hair!" he

oozed again. "I want to learn to do hair like that."

I'm not sure that was compliment or if it meant that my hair was retro

enough to be cool in L.A. Nonetheless, I responded, "Come South. Any

Southern woman worth her weight in magnolias can teach you how to do hair

like this."

Admirably, we, who like to stay as fashionable as possible, have tried to

play along with the trends including that of straight and � shudder � flat

hair.

It has been a difficult task and we have had to call upon every ounce of

steely womanhood but we have soldiered along.

Now, the veil of tribulation can be lifted and forgotten. To celebrate,

I pulled out some photos from 1989 when my hair was so big that it barely

fit in the camera's frame. Lovingly, I stroked the image and dreamed

of the days to come.

I'm making a list now for a big shopping spree where I'll load

up on hair-thickening gels, stiff mousses and ultra-holding hair sprays.

Maybe there's even another hair pick in my future.

One day soon, I'll gather the divas together and ceremoniously we'll

all bury our flat irons and whisper, "Au revoir," then, "Merci,

beaucoup," to the French who made it possible.

Now, if they'd only bring back big shoulder pads. S'il vous plait?

[Ronda Rich is the author of "What Southern Women Know (That Every

Woman Should)" and "My Life In The Pits." She lives in Gainesville,

Ga.]