The ball-shaped blow-dry had died down by this stage, and at this point it just looks like a rubbish hair cut.
I don't know if it's my hair I don't like, or whether I have gone off my face. But I am not too happy. I am pretty dreadful at getting my hair cut on a regular basis, and always feel incredibly uneasy when they ask "When did you last get it cut?". Squirm, squirm, shuffle in my seat. Let me think, possibly 6 months ago?? Eek! When I do get it cut I seem to pay an extortionate sum for a cut and highlights so I figure it balances out and saves me having to find a cheaper hairdresser that I like as much.
What I like about my hairdresser is that she is brave enough to do what I ask her to. Today I had no fixed ideas apart from getting rid of my massively long fringe that I've had to start wearing a clasp to keep from blinding me and it served to give me a kind of hideous 'year book' look. Oh and I needed my colour sorted out. Stevie said my hair was the colour 'a middle aged woman would dye hers'. Full of compliments, so he is. But it's bad if he's having to say that.
So my hairdresser gives me a hair magazine and I find a picture I like. Unfortunately the picture is of Erin O'Conner. A look that I am not going to be able to recreate unfortunately, but I am sure my fine, straight hair could be persuaded into some kind of resemblance to hers. So that's what I ask for. What I get is more along the lines of Myra Hindley. Or a motorcycle helmet. A nicely highlighted motorcycle helmet, but still. Why do they dry it into a ball shape? Of course I said it was just what I wanted and that I loved it, but inside, well I wouldn't say I was crying. I was kind of sniggering at my own stupidity and laughing at what a mistake I'd made. Oh dear.
Oh and of course I kept the long blinding fringe, but I think the colour is different.