Just sayin’…

August 17th, 2020Just sayin’…

WHEN I was born, my mum cried. Now, according to all the movies I have watched, this is not such a big deal. Except that she didn't cry with joy, she cried because I had red hair.

True story. But like Anne of Green Gables, it later turned, not into a deep rich auburn, but a dirty blonde. And stayed that way, lately thanks to supermarket products, all these years. (Check out the photo above. Yes, I know that is about 10 years old but if I took one now you would realise that the pandemic has not been kind.)
But then a week or so ago, I got bored. Not that we have much time for getting bored, what with being weekly and all, but I ran out of things to do. Well, there were things to do like laundry and dishes and sort out the pantry, so I guess I ran out of things I wanted to do. So I dyed my hair. And now like Anne of Green Gables, it is a deep rich auburn for the first time ever.
I did try the same thing about 15 years ago. Kyle had disappeared on an overnight business trip to the Gold Coast – yes children, there was once a thing called travel – and once again I got bored. There may have been a glass or two of chardonnay involved as well. Anyway, I dyed my hair, sat back to let it “develop” and promptly fell asleep. I woke up four hours later wondering why my head felt cold.
Now as any woman knows, and many men I suspect, you only need to leave hair dye on for about 30 minutes. At home, anyway. So I ran to the bathroom and washed it out and felt quite happy when I saw the water finally running clean. And being late, I went to bed. Yes, with pretty wet, and dark, hair, but sure it would lighten up in the morning.
And it did. I woke up early, ready to head off to a big editors’ conference that morning, only to find my hair was now clown orange. Not even slightly red or auburn. So I did the only sensible thing I could think of, and no, not a call-in for a sickie. I plastered it with gel to darken the colour and tied it back. No-one in the meeting said a word but there were some sympathetic glances. As soon as it was over I headed to the nearest hairdresser and explained my predicament. The woman pulled at pieces here and there and finally asked “what colour were you trying to achieve?” “Well, not clown orange,” I replied haughtily.
Anyway, I am now sporting a nice auburn look. Which I don’t mind except for one thing. That getting bored thing happened a few months ago…and I cut my hair. But being a journo and not a hairdresser, I just tied it back, grabbed the kitchen scissors and went “chop”. So my nicely coloured hair is also a kind of strange reverse mullet. Just as well we’re in lockdown a few more weeks. Just sayin’…

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