Today I went to visit Ange at my hairdressers. I shaved my head at the back end of February, so it’s had a good three ish months growth. I asked for a tidy up and to go blonde.
She clapped her hands with glee, bustled off to get the dye ready and came back to the chair. After three big globs of dye going on, she let slip that they’re closing the shopping centre (completely) for renovation where the salon is. O.O
So I will have nowhere to go to top my hair up, or trim it, or nothing. I’ve tried going to other salons, they stuff up my hair to the point where I despair of it. Ange and her husband Sam are taking a month off to think about what they want to do – should she rent a chair somewhere, should they invest in another salon somewhere, should they, could they? The possibilities are endless, for them. But for us punters who trust them both, and their staff with our barnets, it’s not easy. I hate trying to find a new hairdresser. My hair is thick, grows quickly and needs a damn good strong cut on it to manage it.
It’s not something that can just be found overnight.
I have had four really good hairdressers. Chris, who moved to Australia from Eastbourne, WHERE in Australia would be handy to know(!); Kim who used to book me in last thing on a Saturday afternoon so we could go out for dinner together; Jacqui who is one crazy lady, we met at a Mess do and got roaring drunk together, she consistently made me look beautiful and for whom I’d lie my way into Sandhurst Military camp for; and now Ange, who has looked after me pretty much since I landed in Oz.
So today, I’m sat there with goop on my head, committing myself to a blonde ‘do’ and have no hairdresser to maintain it. What to do? Find someone else I guess, to look after it at least for the next visit, then when Ange and Sam are sorted, go back to them. If I’d known there would be no salon in six weeks, would I have gone blonde? Who knows.
I’m happy with the result, I’ll post a picture tomorrow. I’ve had too much red wine and am too angry to take a good picture tonight. Not over this, something else that is frustrating the bee-jee-pers out of me, something else I can’t go into on here.
Hubs loves it, Peanut loves it, I love it. In a hair cut, that’s all that matter really?