I do not have the smoothest relationship with my hair (literally) Born fair to accompany my pale pasty skin and reflecting the Glaswegian and Irish genetic traits of my predecessors, I was the only sibling to avoid the strawberry blonde (ginger) that should, by rights, have accompanied it.
As a toddler I turned a dark , shiny,brown for about five minutes, a colour I would happily have stuck to but it then transformed into a mousy shade just the wrong side of an abandoned dried teabag with my initial poker straight locks now accompanied by an unruly wave with a propesity to stand up on my head as if I had been electrocuted.
To say it looked awful was a massive understatement but at least I now fitted in with my fellow 80’s frizz-haired friends at school and was identifiable as female
Needless to say, I was not an attractive child, a fact was not helped by my mother ‘s propensity to give me an ugly homemade soupbowl haircut that made me look exactly like a homeless street urchin ( a male one).
To be fair, as a young competitive swimmer. the style was definitely practical.
But I retained this unfortunate look until my early teens, when – partly influenced by a comment referring to me as her son – I was allowed to start growing it.
Then I had it permed.
To say it looked awful was a massive understatement but at least I now fitted in with my fellow 80’s frizz-haired friends at school and was identifiable as female.
In this pre-selfie era I did not recognise the true horror of this perm decision until later ( much later) .
Needless to to say my younger sister, who copied everything I did, also went with a permbut with much greater success ( though I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t agree.)
But with ‘style’ I discovered, came ‘products’ which began a lifetime’s investment in pointless sprays gels and miracle calming, shining, spraying products that cost a small fortune and generally languish in my drawers for a few years.
Then, after spotting a few grey hairs when I was about 25, I panicked and got highlights, a habit which sees me shelling out hundreds of pounds a year on touch ups as a sight of mousy root makes me come out in a cold sweat and hives.
It’s enough to make you curl up and dye.