Situation: at the hairdressers, where I was attended to by a man with waist-length blonde hair called Malcolm
Mistake: declaring that I wanted a total re-style and – the height of idiocy – saying I would leave the details up to him
Falsely reassuring conversation, leading to feeling of normality: revolved around water temperature, holidays and approaches to hair care
Result: hairstyle transformed me into spitting image of woman pictured on the box of our 1970s Ludo board game
Made worse by: impulsive buying of trendy street gear that preceded the equally impulsive haircut. Cut and clothes went together like tiramisu and onions
Time taken to admit defeat and have hair cropped off: 4 days (demise of haircut brought on by comment from stranger, which included the words ‘Lily Savage’)
Conclusion: cheaper and better to rely on marmalade rolls and Absolute 80s radio as mood enhancers
Happily the cut is long gone, but this post is to serve as a reminder of the chilling consequences of not knowing your own mind. A few years on, the memory of my mistake is fading, and only the other day, the thought ‘total re-style’ floated through my head once again.
Must not, must not, must not….