How I Chose My Blog Name

How I Chose My Blog Name

I want to share the story of how I chose my blog name, because the name I chose is definitely a head-turner. It’s a great story, so sit back and get cozy. Hairstylists, you’ll get it…I mean really get it. Southerners, you’ll get it, too. The rest of you, please bear with me and read the whole thing. It will give you some things to think about, some things you probably didn’t realize before.

The Back Story

Choosing a name for my blog was difficult, and I get asked often how I chose my blog name. Here’s the long answer.

There are so many topics knocking around in my head that I want to share, and I didn’t see any way to include it all in one title. I wanted something that represented me and my life, but didn’t limit the content I could include here. At home, I am a wife, a mother, a cook, a crafter, a scheduler, a counselor, and sometimes a crabby heifer. Outside of home, I work full-time as a hairstylist and makeup artist (update: I left my career behind the chair in October 2015 to pursue blogging and my handmade business full-time). I don’t always balance these many titles very well, and there is a lot of humor to be found in my scattered, around-the-world life.

I asked my sister, Jimmie, to help me come up with a title. After all, she re-named everyone in her life who is important enough to be included in her blog! I laid awake so many nights thinking of possibilities. I searched a lot of things online, checking to see if the ideas were already taken. Jimmie and I brainstormed a few times, and came up with some pretty cool ideas, but nothing that grabbed me and held me for very long. I knew that when the right idea came, I would know for certain without much thought.

I finally talked to my close friend (and the owner of the salon where I work), Shuh-wanda, about the whole thing, and explained to her what direction(s) I wanted my blog to go in. She understands my ADD tendencies, because she has seen the many colors of Martie for thirteen years. My alter-ego, Crayola Johnson (another story, another post) is ever-present in the salon, providing comic relief and prank-calling skills to brighten up a dull workday.

Shuh-wanda and I have too much fun gabbing and laughing over things that only a hairstylist would understand (like how we eat, sleep and breathe hair constantly, and literally). We share our children with each other, we share our ideas with each other, and we share our food with each other. She knows me as well as I know myselves. And, she’s a whiz at coming up with cool quips, names, and phrases.

So, one afternoon at the salon she quietly says to me, “I have the name for your blog.”
“Yeah, whatcha got?” I asked her, intrigued.

“Is that a hair in my biscuit?” [Update:  I dropped the “Is That” when I went self-hosted, and made the .com blog private]

And, BAM! The title was decided. I got goose bumps all over, and I could feel the huge smile spreading across my face. Then I laughed. My deep, loud, attention-grabbing belly laugh that people either love, or love to hate. Thoughts surfaced and ideas formed immediately.

She just grinned and nodded, her mannerism that comes out when she’s confident of her statement.

“It’s just you, Martie.”

I could have hugged her! But instead, I immediately called Jimmie and told her. She was at work, so I barely heard her giggling, then a little snort. “It’s perfect.”, she finally said. “It’s you!”

And with that, “Is That A Hair In My Biscuit” was born! That’s the long story of how I chose my blog name.

to help you understand, here’s a photo narrative

Why is it “me”, you may wonder? Here’s a little photo narrative of how I chose my blog name.
1) I live in the Deep South, where biscuits are like a food mascot.

Nom Nom Nom!

Nom Nom Nom!

Goin' in for the kill...

Goin’ in for the kill…

2) I do hair, so therefore I eat hair, no matter how hard I try not to. It hangs in my wedding rings, it’s all over my shirt, it’s stuck to the bottom of my shoes, and it’s literally floating in the air and coating every surface of my workplace. It has also been known to imbed itself in my skin. Ever had an ingrown hair that wasn’t yours? The advantage here is, if I do find  a hair in my food,

Wait just a minute!

Wait just a minute!

What the?!? Ew...

What the?!? Ew…



Gone with you!

Gone with you!

Well, it's gone now!

Well, it’s gone now!

Nom Nom Nom!

Nom Nom Nom!

I just pull it out and keep eating.  If not, I’d be wafer thin, and who wants that?

Finger lickin' good.

Finger lickin’ good.

So, what do you think?  Is it “me”, or what?

Plus, the name is just funny as crap! [It’s adapted from an old Southern phrase, “hangin’ on like a hair in a biscuit”…hopefully you know what that means!]  Why else?

Thank you, Shuh-wanda. You rock!

And now you know how I chose my blog name.

Have a great weekend, everybody!

X,O,X,O,   Martie

P.S.~ That was my own hair, which I placed into that gnarly, crumbly biscuit, which I did not eat!  Don’t buy biscuits at a beer and cigarette store, people…yuck!