I know Im going to lose my hair, so I thought I�d better take a photo or two of what it looks like � for posterity, or something.
The thing is, how did my hair know that I was going for a wig fitting this very afternoon? It must have known, cos it chose THIS VERY MORNING when I was styling it into its usual �middle aged porcupine of punk� gorgeousness in readiness for a little pre wig-fitting coffee jaunt with my friend Kazzo to start coming out
in bloody great handfuls
I just stared at it for a bit. I was prepared for having no hair but, standing in the bathroom with a gurt big fistful of the stuff, it was a bit disconcerting I can tell you! The trouble is, my hair�s a bit on the curly side so, in order to make it spiky, I have to take little sections of it and sort of pull it upwards, whilst twisting it. Yeh. If you�re hair is parting company from its moorings at a very alarming rate, the LAST thing you want to be doing to it is taking small sections and yanking/twisting it, to be honest. It really wasn�t helping the situation at all.
Kazzo turned up and we went into Chigley and bought coffee and cakeys. Luckily, it wasn�t windy today or I could easily have been egg-bonced before the double espresso had cooled sufficiently for me to dunk my cakey in it.
Once we were fizzy with caffeine and had bitched about our husbands enough, it was orf to the jolly old wig shop, which is actually a backstreet hairdressers place, with a private room in the back so you don�t have to get your big baldy head out in a shop full of people with�umm�hair, and I tried on a whole load of different wigs til I found one I liked. Handed over my voucher and left the shop with it on my head! Easy peasy!
Back at home, I decided the best thing to do was to get rid of as much of my remaining hair as possible, as quickly as possible. To be honest, I wasn�t relishing waking up in bed tomorrow morning with the pillow looking like I�d rolled over on an elderly hamster in the night. Its not like if I ignore it it wont fall out, so it seems a bit silly to be prolonging the inevitable.
Wasn�t sure how well L�s clippers were going to cope with the job so I thought I�d give it a bit of a head start and hacked off as much of it as I could reach with the hairdressing scissors
Then I enlisted Jooj to come and help out with the back bits that I couldn�t see
Once I�d hacked it down as much as I could, it was time to pause for thought (and another photo)
while L gets the clippers and, with THEEEEEE shakiest hands in the history of DTs, commences clippering
Seriously, folks, I have never never never known anyone wield clippers with such care and devotion
Aww, look! My hairdresser loves me
So! Here I am, then. Ripley meets Sinead. Its kind of bristly still, at the moment, but there are wee patches of smoothness developing and by the weekend (or maybe tomorrow morning, who can say?) I will just look like someone put makeup on a billiard ball.
Still. I think the wig is quite nice.
later
s
x
PS If its not TMI for one day, its unlikely I will have to fork out for a Brazilian any time soon either.
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