I’ve got very fine hair, so fine it’s caused several hairdressers over the years to faint at its fineness, so maybe that’s a slight exaggeration, but they were known to scream loudly if I asked for a perm!
In the morning I look at my tangled mane in the mirror, hold up the comb and show it to my hair, wondering if I really want to suffer the pain of trying to rake through nearly 18″ of knots and invariably end up with bald patches. For the record, my hair is currently purple, this was my mid life crisis, and my first attempt was woefully inadequate, I missed bits and ended up looking like a piebald. I coerced Chris into helping me apply a second colouring a few weeks later, even bought him some of those surgical latex gloves and found him a video to study. I have to say he did a remarkably good job, one whole head of purple hair.
Now though my mid life crisis is going into reverse, I want my grey hair back. My theory is this, if I look like an old dear, doddering around with a mass of wild grey hair, people might take pity on me and do the kind things they do for old dears, like helping me across the road, even if I don’t want to go, and offering me cheap holidays and life insurance especially for the over 50’s.
One thing I refuse to do is have my hair cut off, my Aunt Mab, bless her soul, inspired me to have long hair. She was in her 70’s I believe when she died many years ago, and had this awesome long mane of grey hair that she plaited down her back. Before her husband died, they had owned a bakery in Eastbourne, she still kept bakery hours up to her death, getting up in the early hours, then going to bed in the afternoon for a nap. I will always be haunted by the sight of my Aunt Mab with her long grey hair, I wish I’d known her better when she was alive, she is my inspiration…though I think I’ll pass on the bakery hours!