I suppose everyone has a bad week now and then. And I don’t mind having a ‘bad’ week if that means, it rains all week or the Avocados are suddenly $6 a piece. For others that could be a disaster, for me, it’s not. Here is my suggestion for a reasonable decent week.
Never trust a new hairdresser(ess) with colouring your hair.
Once you have crossed over into the Golden Girls Age like I have, you’ve got some stories to tell about hairdressers. So I am clever. I come prepared. I have a photograph of the hairstyle I want, a photograph of the colour I want, and a photograph of how I want the different colour strands to look like (in this particular case I hoped for white and burgundy red highlights/strands).
“Piece of cake,” she said and two hours later I looked like Donald Trump on a bad hair day. That’s a worry because normally I look nothing like D.T., I have a much better complexion, and I don’t grab strangers… you know where. It must have shown on my face that I was just about to have an apoplectic fit because she offered to redo the colour. Another two hours later I looked like Donald Trump on a very, very bad hair day.
Suffice to say, that hairdressing place ‘fell’ out of my contact list. For a week I tried to make the abomination on my head work somehow. In the end, I did the only reasonable thing possible, I cut my hair (I, me, myself) down to about 1-inch length and hope time will have mercy on me and make my hair grow quickly.
(PS there will be no selfies of and with me for a while.) That’s a bonus because I’m way behind with finishing my latest book!