After seeing myself in recent photographs I finally braved the hairdressers this week -(I’ve included a picture as my Mum checks my blog and I know she will be interested).
I don’t like going to the hairdressers because, for me, it is jinxed - I don’t know why or how but it is. Take this occasion: I’m pleased with my haircut; the salon is really convenient and in the building next to where I work; and the guy who cut my hair was very pleasant. ‘Great!’ you might think but it isn’t - I can’t ever go back! Somewhere in our conversation the hairdresser became convinced I’d said I lived in Devon (my parents do and I grew up there but I don’t live there now). Anyway, he then asked me what I was doing in London and rather than put him right, as any normal person might do, I ended up telling him a complicated tale about how my husband was on business in London and I was accompanying him on holiday. I don’t know why I did it as now I can’t really go back. It isn’t just me, once my husband spent 6 months with our next door neighbour calling him Ralph because he didn’t want to put him right.
That wasn’t it in terms of my jinxed haircut, the taps stopped working mid shampoo and they had to finish me off with a bucket, the guy decided to straighten my hair for free because he wasn’t busy and I was on holiday and didn’t have to rush off (I was actually on my one hour lunch break and getting pretty stressed) and there was the fateful moment as I left when the hairdresser held up a scruffy looking brush and asked whether I wanted it. “It isn’t mine” I said in a confused tone - but it turned out it was a clothes brush…
Oh well on the bright side the second panel of Print O’the Waves is nearly finished so I should be able to start on the border soon. Also look at my great handbag. My brother bought me the bag (he is the one who keeps leaving the odd comments…at least I hope he is!)