5 October 2006
My hair is growing. It probably hasn’t been this long since 1996 when I returned from living in London. At the time, my younger sister Kim’s impending wedding and my role as a bridesmaid engendered a sense of responsibility. I’d always observed that before a wedding the brides are always trying to lose weight and grow their hair. Bridesmaids more often than not just commit to the easier option of growing their hair. Apparently it gives the hairdresser more options for the big day. So, in accordance with my observations I found myself following this tradition.
My hair was blonde at the time. The result of this blondeness and longer bob was a bouffant in something of a fifties style. The hairdresser somehow made it look like I had luxurious, wavy hair. Gigi still looks at those photos, cringes and passes a comment that is anything but complimentary. Just between you and me, when I first saw ‘the do’ in the mirror I nearly died, well I nearly cried at the very least. It just wasn’t me. But in hindsight I quite like those photos, capturing the big, blonde, wavy hair of that special night.
I’m afraid of Italian hairdressers. And dentists, but that’s another story. I last had my hair cut in May, while we were in London by my friend Garo. He is a fabulous hairdresser, but short of shipping him over I’m resigned to the fact that my hair is going to get longer. It’s at that terrible stage where my fringe hangs down to the end of my nose. I can tuck it behind my ears but it’s not long enough to tie back. I’m hoping the cold weather comes earlier so I can wear a hat or something on my head to help me through these next few months. However, I am thankful that Garo cut it well which makes the growing out a little less painful.
It does make a girl miss her regular Aussie hairdresser though. Mark, if you’re out there, you are sorely missed.
My hair is growing. It probably hasn’t been this long since 1996 when I returned from living in London. At the time, my younger sister Kim’s impending wedding and my role as a bridesmaid engendered a sense of responsibility. I’d always observed that before a wedding the brides are always trying to lose weight and grow their hair. Bridesmaids more often than not just commit to the easier option of growing their hair. Apparently it gives the hairdresser more options for the big day. So, in accordance with my observations I found myself following this tradition.
My hair was blonde at the time. The result of this blondeness and longer bob was a bouffant in something of a fifties style. The hairdresser somehow made it look like I had luxurious, wavy hair. Gigi still looks at those photos, cringes and passes a comment that is anything but complimentary. Just between you and me, when I first saw ‘the do’ in the mirror I nearly died, well I nearly cried at the very least. It just wasn’t me. But in hindsight I quite like those photos, capturing the big, blonde, wavy hair of that special night.
I’m afraid of Italian hairdressers. And dentists, but that’s another story. I last had my hair cut in May, while we were in London by my friend Garo. He is a fabulous hairdresser, but short of shipping him over I’m resigned to the fact that my hair is going to get longer. It’s at that terrible stage where my fringe hangs down to the end of my nose. I can tuck it behind my ears but it’s not long enough to tie back. I’m hoping the cold weather comes earlier so I can wear a hat or something on my head to help me through these next few months. However, I am thankful that Garo cut it well which makes the growing out a little less painful.
It does make a girl miss her regular Aussie hairdresser though. Mark, if you’re out there, you are sorely missed.
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