Don't act like you don't know what they are. Conair is the brand du jour and they come in sets of pink and purple. And let's keep it real. Apostolic girls LURVE them some hot sticks. At least they did when I was present during the 2 hours most of my camp friends needed to get ready before night service. At least 2 sets were a must to tame the glory manes. I was even pressured into letting Polly or whoever put a few sticks in my hair a time or two, and I must say, my tendril game was tight those nights.
Hot sticks and me
I have a little confession to make about hot sticks, though. Simply put, I don't have hot stick-esque hair. And at that time, during my camp days, foolish as it may sound, hot sticks became an emblem of everything I was not. Hot sticks was that disappointing reminder that no one asked me to the pizza party that year or swapped badges with me. Hot sticks was that girl who got up there and tore up the solo of that JCM song the choir sang that night. Hot sticks represented that Pentecostaliciousness I would never be able to attain. Hot sticks let me know that I was different, a welcomed, but never-quite-at-home addition to the gaggle of skirt-wearing girls I was proud to be a part of.
Eventually, I learned the ways of the curling iron. I've never been the same since.