Saturday, November 06, 2010
I'm a Stranger Here Myself
I got the hair 'done' yesterday. I don't know what happened. You know when something starts up outside of your control and like a runaway train you can't jump off, it is all going too fast?
That was me yesterday with a stylist I've used once before with pleasing results. This time it was different.
First it was the colour of the glop she foisted on my head and then it was all this hair cascading onto the floor. Masses of it. And then it was me with a black head and hair far too short in the back and a kind of curtain on each side of my ears.
I did express displeasure and was not assured with the words:
"Sure it'll all grow out and the black will fade to a really nice shade each time you wash it!".
Not yer standard reaction from a stylist surely? (Translated: This atrocious mess will fix itself when your hair decides to grow out but wash it a lot to overthrow this appalling colour that doesn't suit you one bit.)
I've never had black hair. It takes some getting used to.
Meantime every time I pass a mirror I jump. WTF? I say, Nasty little 'do on you!
I took it out today for an airing. I also packed my knitting to take my mind off it and distract others from focussing on my pale, pale face beneath my black, black hair.
Everyone was kind enough to just look at the knitting.