Friday, 23 March 2012

Day 81 - Hair!

About six weeks ago I did the unthinkable.

I coloured my own hair.

Although I used to do this all the time when I was in my twenties, since getting older and running out of melatonin, it's become a job for a true professional.

The man who touches and retouches me like no other, is Harley.

Through blonde, brunette and redhead, Harley has been there saying " you think that's wise?"

So it was with fear, trembling and no end of shame, that I entered the salon, knowing Harley would take one look at my home coloured tresses and realise I had been unfaithful.

That I had done it without him, strayed.

I sat down and looked into the mirror at our reflections as Harley lifted my brassy gold (with a touch of green) hair, looking for all the world like he wanted some hand sanitiser.

Our eyes met and he said,"did you do this yourself?"

"Nooooo", I said, nodding guiltily.

He sighed a deep, frustrated sigh, a sigh that spoke of years of devotion that had been thrown away in an afternoon of rushed root-covering.

"We can fix this", Harley said, "unless you want it to remain this colour?"

"No. That would be great. Another colour. Any colour but this. Please".

I think it was the plaintive "please", that turned his icy demeanor back to the laughing confidante I know so well.

And so it was that three hours, multiple foils, another colour, wash, rinse, blow dry and haircut later that I emerged - the brassy moth had become the highlighted butterfly.

I am complete.


  1. Oh God, the shame. And they know; they always know. Great colour now though.

  2. Yes we know, but alais you always come back in the end!!
    Angela x