Hair Don't

Of course I blame it all on Sparkle.

If she hadn't tried so hard to tempt me to stay in Blighty by booking an appointment with her favourite hairdresser then I wouldn't be in this mess now!

Now all those that know me know that I am not adverse to clipping my hair into different shapes and dyeing it various shades from hot pink to near-on ebony. It started years ago when Nicky and I used to buy copious amounts of shaders and toners from the Broadway and attempt to transform our hair into the pictures on the sachets (we never did grasp the fact that the colour change wouldn't automatically turn our hair into the actual picture replicating cut, texture and pretty model like faces!). I also had never until that fateful day in May, come away from the hairdressers and not 'improved' on the cut by snipping further bits from their unlevel efforts.

Sparkles hairdresser Jamie, is no such amateur though. He turned me into a sleek goddess in just under four hours (ah, I see now. I have only ever allowed 45 mins to get myself coiffed). So as I became accustomed to the bouncy, shiny highlighted hair, I became more reluctant to change his vision. To the point last week when I looked at my trailer trash roots and tired, flat, grown out fringe and decided to take drastic action.

Of course I couldn't go to a proper hairdresser. Lord knows you can't trust them. I have spent my adult life searching for the holy grail in hair design to know that two Jamie's don't exist. So I did the next best thing. I found Dave's sharpest scissors (at least I have come a long way from the days when I would take to my wee brothers hair with gusto and a pair of pinking shears! They did give a delightful zigzag effect though!) and bought a job lot of hairdye.

The trimming went fine enough and I managed to copy Jamies original work reasonably well (in an amateur way at least) but the hairdyeing was another matter. I have long thick hair and so dyeing it is a labourious task in itself. Especially when you have to dye it, wait twenty minutes, rinse, towel dry and then highlight. Needless to say I got bored towards the end and had to dance around singing into the highlighting wand to keep myself amused. During an especially soul rendering version of The Choirboys 'Run to Paradise' I managed to give myself a 'badger streak'! A horizontal streak of blonde about a centimetre away from my hairline. Tres chic.

However am considering keeping it for a while as am growing strangely attached to it's imperfectness! Although on second thoughts maybe all I need is regular (three monthly) visits back to Plymouth for the weekend to visit Jamie. I need someone to save my poor hair from a life of ridicule.