From the moment I discovered I had hair which is a long time ago, I have been obsessed. I play with it, think about it, split my ends, cut it, dye it, dye it some more, and discuss at length with anyone who has the patience to endure my endless musings about what really would look best. Why so self-absorbed you ask? I don’t know. It seems my lot in life that this is one thing that I can’t come to terms with. That’s why after Dave’s and mine first year of relationship bliss, he bravely put forward a motion to ban the topic from conversation forever and for all time.
He saw me through my white blonde too-short bob, followed by an equally horrendous dye-job which transformed me into an even more bobbed brunette. Now growing into my more natural, let’s call it ‘caramel’ not mousey brown colour, I am moving away from the ever popular bob back to the voluminous shag.
Sadly for me I inherited my father’s nasty stomach and my mother’s even nastier head of hair. Some of you out there know what I’m talking about. Hair that lacks any predictable qualities is a nightmare for the self-obsessed. A wave here, a curl there, flat here, dry and nasty of there.
But lately I’ve noticed a warming in the air and in a surprising offer of detente, Dave has once again entered the hair fray. Before leaving the house he passes me a brush. Try this, he says. Ah. The brush I say. An excellent tool. I wonder who invented this and ask myself why I couldn’t come up with an idea like this. So now I brush my hair regularly.
This weekend though, he offered even more excellent advice. While bathing together we decided to review hair washing basics. This is something I apparently missed in my formative years. (Where were you mom?) I realize now that in a misguided attempt to stop by hair from drying out prematurely that I applied shampoo only to the very top of my head. If I were a bunch of carrots, only the very top greens would be scrubbed clean. Apparently this is all wrong. And lo and behold, following an excellent all over rigorous hair scrubbing, followed by an equally rigorous application of hair conditioner (ALL OVER) I allowed my salad to dry naturally and after a single brush, I had quite nice manageable hair. Maybe the culprit isn’t my lousy genetics after all. But simply my own pathetic neglect of my mangy locks. Whatever the answer I now know that there are some basic steps to hair care that must be adhered to. It goes something like this: wash at least once every two to three days, apply shampoo evenly over unruly mane, rinse thoroughly, then do the same with the conditioner. Just like they tell you in the fine print!