My hairdresser has so overbleached my hair (all I asked for was light brown with a few blonde bits) that it is all breaking off about half an inch away from my head. My roots are now growing through their natural ‘dark mouse’ colour and the rest of it is strangely wispy and a really peculiar yellow. I haven’t had a fringe since January….
I go to see my hairdresser. She is totally unconcerned and completely unsympathetic. She sits me in the front of the salon to discuss The Hair and then tries to move me to the little back room when she discovers it’s A Complaint. I decide not to move from where she first told me to sit and she tells me I Am Being Unreasonable. She inspires no confidence that she can help, and shows no inclination to do so – in fact she just wants to recolour it (which will probably make the rest of it fall out) so I mention compensation. At which point she slams her book of colours shut, yells ‘Fine. Get it sorted and send me the bill’ and flounces off. This is what passes for customer care in Caerphilly, apparently… Still, the good news is that by this time she is very red in the face and clearly annoyed, and I am supremely calm. One up to me, I think… although I do burst into tears when I get back to the safety of my little car…
I phone one of the top salons in Cardiff and seek advice. I arrange a consultation for the next day but in the meantime they tell me to use a strengthening shampoo, hot oil treatments and milk. I try the milk thing when I get home. The milk in the fridge is old and has turned to yoghurt which is a bit thicker, but this is still Very Messy.
When I go for my appointment there are a succession of people saying ‘ooh, that’s really bad’ but in a helpful, considerate kind of way. I speak to a colourist and a stylist and we plan a course of action. We’re not going to touch the colour until two weeks before the wedding, and I can have a ‘snip the wispy ends off’ cut in 3 weeks. However, it does mean that my two new hairdressers will have one shot at getting the colour and cut right near to the Big Day. Gulp.
I get advice on serious hair repairing products and order the whole lot over the internet when I get home. £56! Still if it works…. And besides, ex-hairdresser is going to pay. My hair is softer and feels more like hair, which is good. There is still very little of it, but it does feel like it might grow again soon. I have decided that after I’ve swum in the morning if I then put milk on it (Apparently it’s meant to be evaporated milk which smells even worse) then I’ll just be pushing chlorine down into the hair shaft, so I have taken to rinsing my hair under the outside tap before adding the milk and eating breakfast. Outside tap water is Bloody Cold. Still, I convince myself it is ‘stimulating my scalp’ which is a Good Thing.
On Friday evening after work I pop across town to see Jenny and give her her birthday present (necklace) which seems to hit the spot, and Karen gives me a stunning Laura Ashley bracelet which is just gorgeous. We sit in the garden and talk about flowers like our mothers used to… we decide we are Middle Aged. In the evening Guy cooks me a lovely meal and spends most of it gazing indulgently into my eyes. I decide he must really love me, and bask in the warm glow of his affection until I later discover I have a large piece of pepper wedged between my two front teeth and he was probably just trying not to laugh…
On Saturday I pressure-clean various bits of paving and walls. Very satisfying, but quite the filthiest job in the world… Still, I have the comfort of knowing that I look chic and elegant whilst doing it. I think the pink rubber gloves add a certain something… Sadly you can’t see the string holding up my trousers… Very Compo, trust me.
On Sunday we (a) cut the leylandii hedges and get covered in those horrible scratches which only leylandii can inflict (b) entertain two rather unpleasant fat lesbians with an unruly dog who are thinking of putting in an Endless Pool (c) get necessarily fairly tiddly on fizzy Pinot Grigio (see (b) above), (d) have an almost-birthday with mum who has decided today should be my birthday and (e) have a hilarious visit from Anna with a nice chap called Pete (mental note to self – find out who Pete is) who brings with her utterly brilliant bridesmaid outfit for Blunkett as well as stonkingly large vase to put flowers in for wedding.
We try the utterly brilliant bridesmaid outfit on Blunkett and it looks utterly brilliant, but as I didn’t have a camera handy I have had to (later) photo it fitted to my knee. Not quite the same, admittedly (Blunkett is blacker and prettier) but you get the idea…
Weight: 8 stone 8 lbs! I have put on 2 lbs! Hooray! Am now worried that it will all accumulate around my arse and I will still be scrawny at the top but fatter on the backside. Like a weeble.
Bruises: None at all from the pressure hosing, but spectacular rashes from the hedge trimming. Long sleeves for a few days, then…
Hair: Smells weirdly of evaporated milk….. Softer though, so it looks like I have less hair. And I’m trying not to blow dry it so there’s no style. Still yeugh, really.
Nails: Mostly Gorgeous, but ripped best nail (index finger, left hand) picking up wretched bits of Leylandii… still considering whether to ignore it, mend it or hack it off...
Cake: We have a top piece!! And the two week old madeira cake got tested by our offices and was a resounding success, so we now know we can make it two weeks in advance. Excellent news…
Roses: Still alive! Looking perfectly happy, although not actually growing so as you’d notice…
Unbridal moment of the week: Pressure hosing. The filthiest job in the world AND I had to have that string holding up my waterproof trousers. Just lovely…
Plan for the week: Write firm letter to hairdresser telling her how much she’s in for – plus adding a bit for stress and worry. One of the solicitors at work says ‘distraught’ is an excellent word to use…
Post-script: The two fat lesbians were very keen that their dog would be able to swim in the pool too. ‘But we shan’t be putting her in yours today….’ they said reassuringly. ‘Thank God for that’ I thought to myself before I heard them continuing… ‘because we wouldn’t want to travel home with a wet dog…’ I get commission if they order a pool. I will have earned it this time…
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