Hair today, please be gone by tomorrow.

It wasn’t a successful venture in the experimental years between ’95 to ’99 and naturally, eleven years later, it has proven to be even less successful. Home colouring is dangerous, wrong and should be banned. My technique of colouring my hair is comparable to that of a pig applying lipstick. As I looked back at the yellow straw that greeted me in the mirror, I considered my options. It was 10pm so there were no options. Only facts remained as my comforter. There were two facts – I had to go to work tomorrow (at my still relatively ‘new’ job) and my hair was yellow. I am not so sure that I would be able to feign an illness on the basis of my hair being an unnatural colour. If I consult the dictionary, ‘illness’ is defined as ‘a disease or period of sickness affecting the body or mind’. It was partly true. My new ‘do was affecting my body (it made me look crazy) and my new ‘do was affecting my mind (I was crazy) so TECHNICALLY I was sick. I am not so sure that sending my boss this dictionary definition would be the right career path to take.

When I went into work, I knew things were very bad because people looked at my hair and not my face. This is how is must feel to be a woman with exceptionally large breasts. Sort of. By the end of the day, most of the office had passed by my desk to check out the hair. I was the circus freak and wondered if I should start charging admission. There must be nothing to talk about in the office today if my hair was the subject. The fluoro strip lighting that illuminated the office only seemed to enhance the scarecrow-ness of it all. Someone even said, ‘your hair was a beautiful colour before.’ Comments like that really do no good.

After surviving one day at work, and starring in my own circus show, I decided to take matters into my own hands. After some reliable research done on the internet (hmmm), my choices were getting smaller. If I chose to home dye my hair a darker colour then it would probably go green (bad) and if I put more peroxide on it, I would surely go bald (very bad). I don’t think I would be one of those girls who can pull off an elfin crop hair style. I think I would just look like I was a member of Right Said Fred. Okay, so with green hair and baldness not tempting me, there was the other option to purchase some blue toning shampoo – the toner would reduce the frightening colours in my hair, it sounded incredible. I don’t think they would sell this in the Etos.

Finally, and after harassing most of the hairdressers in South-Holland, I have managed to locate some of this blue wonder-shamps. I am filled with hope. Tomorrow I will be the owner of Hollywood honey-hued locks a la Blake Lively from Gossip Girl and this whole home-hair-dye-disaster incident will be something I can laugh about in the canteen over lunch.

I am filled with an ever so slightly nagging doubt.


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