Sunday 29 September 2013

Turn your head and coiff

A supremely disappointing journey to the barbers yesterday would've ended in barbicide* if the barber/hairdresser hadn't been so nice and friendly.

I've never been that interested in my own hair. I take the occasional glance at it and style it to any 80's or 90's convention that is currently en vogue. I was lucky enough to grow up in an era where style mattered less than substance (cheers, Thatcher). the 20/30 year cycle we have on fashion is both inevitable and comforting (God help us when the 90's come back).

However. This is the first ever cut I am seriously considering taking it all off and starting over again. Styled, it looks ok. Non-styled? A four year old with a Flymo Strimmer (there's your 90's reference) would've done better.

"Grade 3 on the sides and an inch off the top". How can you mess that up? This is why I don't talk to hairdressers.

*Barbicide =a translucent blue disinfectant solution manufactured by King Research. I, however, would like it to also mean what it etymologically should - the murder of barbers. Especially when they have given you a bad cut. It may become a word that is father of the action. What justice is there for someone who takes a fringe too short? A bad bleach? A poor perm? A futile feathering? Ok, that went too far.

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