This is something I wrote a few days ago in the middle of writing slump – I’d started and abandoned four different blog posts and was growing increasingly frustrated. I asked a writing group for tips on how to break it and someone suggested writing something really self-indulgent and light hearted. I wasn’t going to share it initially, I just needed to be able to finish something, anything and it worked so, here’s what came from that….*
Just before Christmas, fed up with the in and out nature of lockdowns, boredom and stressed over having not bought a single present (five days before Christmas), I did what any self-respecting woman who’s fed up does…..got my hairdresser to do something drastic to my hair…..
I got her to colour it a much brighter shade of red, add in more layers and cut me a fringe (bangs if you’re American)….it was in part inspired by a chat at work a few days earlier about Daisy Edgar Jones’ fringe (Marianne in the TV adaptation of Normal People).
I’ve done this on plenty of occasions, I get bored easily with my hair. I know in a week or so I’ll wish it was longer and think about growing it, I’ll grow it then decide to chop it all off.
This time, however, the fringe decision bothered me. I couldn’t decide whether I looked like Dudley Moore, a Beatle or that character in Love Actually, you know the one everyone hates because Alan Rickman buys her a necklace.**
I’ve also had a fringe before and I’m not great with them. At 15 there was an unfortunate occasion where it was cut far too short and looked stupid (I will not provide photo evidence). In my 20s it’d always end up parted in the middle by the end of the day or slapped to my forehead and a fringe is ALWAYS a nightmare on holiday – not that I imagine I’ll be going anywhere any time soon.
Basically, I’m not great at maintenance. Two weeks on from the fringe decision I’ve noticed there’s some decent benefits…..
The annoying wispy, baby hairs are hidden. I don’t know where these have come from, since turning 30 tiny, fine, wispy bits of hair have sprouted along my hair line. It doesn’t matter how I try to hide them; or blend them into my hairline they stick up or drop down like a weird stalactites made from hair. Not a problem anymore, they’re well hidden.
Eyebrows. Considering it now looks like I won’t be getting my eyebrows done for the foreseeable future thanks to tier four, a fringe means they’re hidden so it really doesn’t matter if they’re an undefined, bushy mess.
Frown lines. I have an expressive forehead. I’m also fairly irritable and spend a lot of time frowning, looking puzzled or raising my eyebrows at idiots. My God there are a lot of idiots around at the moment. The lines are getting deeper, I’ve never been overly bothered before lines do tell stories, unfortunately mine tell the story that I get annoyed a lot and fairly easily…. that truth is hidden by hair for the time being.
Actually, it looks pretty good. Even if I do say so myself.
Having now got on board with the fringe, I’m left with one problem….
Zoe, my hairdresser, had said when it gets too long and needs tidying up, just call in and I’ll give it trim for free. Great! I thought, now the hairdressers are shut in Lancashire for God knows how long.
I guess I’ll just have to get used to not being able to see and constantly brushing my hair out my eyes. Oh well, there’s worse things I guess.
*all tongue in cheek
**there’s nothing wrong with looking like Dudley Moore, The Beatles or Mia in Love Actually.
Journalist, writer, traveller, music lover, collector of hats, news addict, bookworm