Today I experienced a proper foul mood, which was because I had been waiting for about 2 weeks to have my hair coloured today, and an hour before the appointment the salon called to cancel. I was surprised at how upset I was, for about 10 seconds I considered having a little cry. Nothing upsets people more than the unexpected. I had been looking forward to my hairdo, and when it was cancelled I was left with mousey roots and a sense of disappointment. Yesterday, I had felt a little bit low, and I thought about my hairdo as a way to make me feel better. What was I to do now I had nothing to cheer me up? I will tell you what I did later, but first a word about hair.
You can tell a lot about human nature from hair. I have no statistics on this, but fucking millions of people colour, curl, straighten, braid and generally fuck about with their hair. Blokes get pissed off when they lose their hair, but I am concentrating on women and their hair for this blog. I am currently trying to think of all the women I know, and I don't think I can think of a single one who doesn't dye their hair. This tells me that we always want what we cannot have, a common human trait. For about ten years, I had not dyed my hair. Then, a few months ago I started dyeing it again. Why? Because I wanted something different. This is another key thing to note about hair. Hair gives you a way to transform yourself, to rejuvenate and reinvent yourself. This should not be underestimated.
When I was a teenager, and I first met the black dog, (these times will subsequently be called The Underdog Years, as in those days the dog was the master and I was the slave, and also because sometimes it felt as if he was sitting on my head), I was in a state of continual change with my hair. I despised the natural colour and dyed it repeatedly. I had every hair colour you could imagine. I'd dye it, then within a week or so get bored and dye it again. I liked the feeling of reinvention. I hoped that every time I put my head in the sink to wash out the dye, I would emerge a different person and could somehow outwit the dog. It didn't work, but I did have some interesting looks. (I also recieved a few interesting looks down the High Street).
Doing something to your hair can make a lot of difference. I remember one time, when I was feeling especially low over Bastard Xmas, largely because I had a Bastard Ex, as soon as January came I got my arse into the salon, and had bright blonde and pink streaks put into my hair. Then I felt I could hold my head high when facing bastard ex. Now I look back at that time not as a time when I was fucking miserable, but a time when I had amazing hair. A few months later, I also got the best haircut of my life, in Australia, and swanned back to the UK looking hot, with my tan and new hair. Bastard Ex was all over me, wanting me back, but I told him to fuck right off.
The moral of this story is, when you feel like shit, get a hairdo. It can't hurt. Or as it says on the Aussie Shampoo bottles, 'There's more to life than hair, but it's a good place to start'. Even if your new do looks shit, you'll have shaken things up a bit and there's always someone who prefers it. Even if that person is your mum.
In addition, when my hairdo was cancelled, I went out, bought my own dye and did it myself at home. It came out perfectly, and I saved fuckloads of money, which is a good way to deal with a disappointment!
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