Isn’t my hair nice? It’s clean, shiny, silky, neat, classic and very cute. This is because I was four and my mum was in charge of my hair. Shortly after this I started refusing to have my fringe cut, because I liked peering sinisterly up at people from beneath it, and shortly after that I refused to have the length cut at all, and shortly after that I refused to brush my hair because it hurt hurt hurt, and Mummy Hamer and I would have lengthy, tearful arguments every morning, and Daddy Hamer would threaten to brush my hair with rusty nails hammered into a piece of wood, and still I would refuse. I was eight then. eight-year-olds aren’t very nice. Soon I was a teenager and wore it in a ponytail, so as to blend as invisibly as possible into the crowd of ponytailed girls at my horrible school.
Then Facebook records began. Throughout most of university I had long, thick, unlayered, side-partinged, natural-dark-brown, hair. Continuing the birthday theme, here I am at my 21st.
It was a bit dull, but sometimes I did awesome things with it. Like this.
Anyway, one day, *snip!*, I had my ponytail cut off and sent to a charity that makes wigs for children undergoing chemotherapy, and the remainder was a neat little brown bob again, like four-year-old me.
|The sad face was staged. I can't remember the back story now!|
After that the mop was in various stages of ‘bob in between hair trims’, and then I was a postgrad with no money for haircuts (or for food or fun, as I feel is evidenced by the desperation in my eyes)
And then suddenly one day *ping!* it was ginger. And by ‘ginger’, I mean ‘cheesy wotsit orange’.
The ginger love prevailed for a few years. One time I had a dodgy sideways fringe.
One time I had a 23rd birthday party, and had the best updo ever.
One time I had maniacal 1940s curls.
One time I had a coaster to match my head.
Then one day, *ping!* I had a choppy ginger bob.
After that, (birthdays again, this is my 24th) I had a round black flapper bob a la Brooksie
Then it was brown and a different shape.
Now, I’m bored.
|Drunk, but bored.|
I would like hair like this lady next.
(That is the authoress of blog A Fine Day forSailing)
I’ve had hair like that once before.
Actually, twice before.