I never thought I’d be doing a post about hair…
It’s perhaps more appropriate for a ” “beauty blogger” ” to do a post about hair but what the hell, let’s do this.
I’m wouldn’t say I’m obsessed with my hair these days as I don’t have enough of it to get obsessed over but thinking about events from previous years, which I will come to later, have made me reflect. I would never go as far to say I Am My Hair as Lady Gaga once did although I do love that song and sort of understand what she is on about, well, as much as anyone can understand the Gaga.
Hair is the first thing I notice about a person and I guess it forms the basis of my first impressions.
Basically, if you have crap hair I won’t like you until you go visit British Hairways, Head Office or Curl Up & Dye. You’ve got to love the puns that hairdressers use.
My hairdresser is called Laura, no pun intended. Oh wait, just no pun. She’s lovely and I’ve been going to her for over years. I love our bi-monthly chat about holidays, reality tv, food and cats – oh, and she cuts my hair too which is a bonus!
I would say I was quite lucky as I’m 39 and still have some hair. Obviously, it’s receded and sometimes I am shocked when I see where my hairline once was. I’m often reminded of this when I see a long hair growing out from halfway down my forehead. On second thoughts, maybe it’s not where my hairline used to be, maybe it’s just one of those “random long hairs”. You know, the single hairs that just suddenly appear in odd places overnight like it’s been given fertilizer while you slept.
Anyway, I’ve come to terms with my thinning hair and the ever increasing grey. Silver fox and all that but I think I would rather have all grey hair than be bald.
Does it make me a bad person when I love seeing people who I knew back in the old days when they had “model” hair and now they are completely BALD!
When I was at school the fashion was to have a centre parting. Think of a big pair of hairy curtains covering your eyes and that was it. For some guys it just naturally went like that but no, not for me. My hair isn’t straight but it’s not overly curly. Certainly not as curly as one of my flatmates at University who had the nickname “pubic wig head Dave” – charming bunch, weren’t we.
Yes, so I desperately wanted to have the hairy curtain look and this was the days before guys used GHD hair straighteners – so what did I do? I would make sure my hair was combed down the side of my head before going to bed and press it against the pillows while I slept. Thus, I would wake up with hairy curtains or, more often than not, I would wake up with only one hairy curtain as I forgot to turn over during the night. On the days I did manage it, as soon as I went outside, bearing in mind I live in Scotland, it would either be blown all to hell or the rain would make me look like Diana Ross (credit to Friends for that one).
Years later I have been told by people looking at pictures of me then that I looked like McLovin from Superbad. I’ll let you be the judge…
The years went by and the fashion changed and I decided I wanted to bleach my hair. The less said about that the better as the massive brown eyebrows kind of speak for themselves. The actual hair bleaching process was fun as we did forget to remove the lid from the mixing bottle so there was a mini explosion resulting in unwanted colour changes of the carpets, our clothes, my flatmate’s toothbrush and quite possibly a lampshade.
I discovered hair straighteners about 12 years ago – pretty much the same time as I discovered what burning hair smelled like…
I once grew my hair far too long and realised my error when we went on vacation. Sitting in a restaurant in 28 degrees Celsius, feeling like you have a furry pet sitting on your head whilst wiping sweat from your face with the table cloth is not a good look.
That pretty much brings me to where I am today with my “sensible haircut” and “age appropropriate” haircut. I sometimes think wouldn’t it be better if I just go all grey rather than just having patches of it and have toyed with the idea of using this hair wax.
However upon thinking about the time and effort to do this I think I will leave it for Mother Nature to do her work. I do hope that while she is doing that work that she stays well clear of my man garden!
I’ve also considered hair transplants, popping pills but that’s either too expensive or just a hassle so when I initially saw this video I was very impressed…
I mean I got 5 gold stars for my gluing skills at school and I am a dab hand with a hair dryer so this seems ideal and great, right? After a few days of pondering I decided that this was too good to be true but I’d love to hear from any one who has actually tried it. If I’m suitably convinced then why the fuck not give it a go? Imagine my work colleagues at work when I turn up one morning with a mane of golden hair!
So, that’s ‘my hair’ up to date but I’m not finished yet.
Greg started losing his hair a few years ago. When I first met him he had lots of hair and styled it to death. He was the one that introduced me to hair straighteners and now when he sees me using them he is so jealous I’m sure he wished a spark would fly and set my hair alight a la Michael Jackson in the Pepsi advert. For a few years Greg then had a period of having short hair (until he started taking medication and is now a hairy bastard again – see it does work!) and used hair clippers every so often to keep it that way. One day while he was trimming it and asked me to help with the “pubey” bits at the back, as he calls them. Okay, I said and he handed me the clippers. The lesson to be learned here is to never assume (makes an ass of u and me) as I assumed he still had a guard on the blade. No. Big no! As I zip the clippers up the back of his head I realised there’s no guard when I saw his shiny head peeking through his thinning hair….
Oopsy I thought to myself but said nothing. Maybe he won’t notice? Maybe if I hide the handheld mirror he won’t be able to use that to see the back of his head in the big mirror. Too late, he’s using and it and there are swear words everywhere.
He was NOT his hair.
“I can blend it in, I can blend it in”, I try to reassure him knowing full well I could blend it in as well as Madonna could blend in at a convent. Anyway, it was too late, he started using the unguarded clippers on the rest of his hair. In anger! There was practically bits of skull hitting the shower screen and I exited, stage left.
I returned to the bathroom to find Lex Luthor in my shower and my superpowers were useless against his wrath. Lex Luthor’s superpowers are apparently slamming doors, shouting, stomping on the floor and more shouting. The powers subsided and gave way to silence. Silence Of The (overclippered) Lambs….
The silent mistreatment (it wasn’t my fault, it wasn’t my fault) continued for the rest of the night, the next morning and also the car journey to work. I toyed with the idea of buying him a nice hat or some funny Halloween wig (sadly Sia wigs were not around then) but I refrained as I quite like my liver. If I went home with a green witches wig, my liver would have certainly been served up with a nice Chianti and some fava beans.
In the car on the way home once I’d got my vision back after been dazzled by the headlights bouncing off Greg’s head, things got back to normal.
Did people at your work like it, I asked. No, he said, they just said “ooooh dear – what happened?” You have no idea how much I wanted to sing some Lady Gaga at that point.
I am my hair. Greg was his hair…well a few weeks later.
Note: no pictures were posted of Greg here due to the unsafe blinding light that would be caused by the flash reflecting from his head.
Let’s finish with some Lady Gaga and if you have any funny hair stories or if you have tried any products to make it grow more then please let me know.
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