Haircut

Tuesday 7th March

You wouldn’t believe the damage wreaked on my hair by the sun, salty air and humidity. Within three weeks it had morphed into a sort of 1970’s Farah Fawcett look and thereafter it descended into dry, ratty ends. It wouldn’t even respond to my straighteners, that last frontier, the ultimate weapon against what is uncommonly known as “Muppet Barnet”.

It was definitely time for a cut, but having had the same hairdresser for more than eleven years (Hello Steph!), it was with some trepidation that I approached another hairdresser (albeit on recommendation). I needn’t have worried; she did a great job.

The new hairdresser (Jessica) gave me lots of advice on hair-related topics and showed me some Aussie products designed to make UV rays “bounce off the hair”. It was probably a load of cobblers, but I bought the product anyway. “You should really wear a swimming cap when you are in the water” she said. I peered at her over my cup of coffee trying to imagine myself in a swimming costume and bathing cap. The image staring back at me bore a close resemblance to those women who greased themselves up with whale blubber to swim the English Channel. “Oh I’ll stick to hair products” I said, “swimming caps are for nans and lifeguards, aren’t they?”.