...and my right eyebrow is wobbly, there's a faint scar on my nose where I fell off a swing when I was about five, and the rest of my face is slowly, inexorably, travelling south.
Of course, I have known all this for some time (the ear, my mother assured me, was because I used to stick my hand behind it when I was tired. I think she was just being kind), and most of the time none of it bothers me. I just don't look. But I've spent the afternoon at the hairdresser's, compelled to look at myself in the mirror for two hour (I was having my highlights done. You thought it was natural? How kind. But it isn't. Hasn't been for years. In fact, for so long that I've no longer any idea what colour my hair is supposed to be).
This is the downside of the hairdresser's; the having to look at myself. I had a book, of course, but Colin (hairdresser) and I talk, so it would be rude to read all the time. We always end up talking about sex - I've no idea why - but we also always discuss cars (Colin loves cars. I do not) and what we would do if we won the lottery (Colin: buy fast cars and yachts. Me: dither).
(Actually, Colin did win a prize in the last Euromillions draw. £2.90. But he's promised to go on cutting my hair.)
Tuesday, 16 August 2011
My left ear sticks out...
Posted by Frances Garrood at 16:39
Labels: at the hairdresser's, highlights, sticking-out ears
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I hate the hairdressers for this very reason. Not just that, but if you have a smart, attractive, thin lady as a hairdresser, you get a couple of hours to compare your image with hers as she cuts the hair. Not Good.ReplyDelete
Fran, believe me - a smart, attractive, thin man is almost as bad.ReplyDelete
I never enjoy going to the hairdressers either. They manage to get the lighting just right so you can see all your scars and flaws in all their glory :-)ReplyDelete
When going to the hairdressers I'm grateful to be short sighted because I can't see myself clearly!ReplyDelete
Great post...love what you talk about with Colin!
Lacey, you're right. It's the same in changing rooms. My daughter and I refer to the "changing room experience"; that awful moment when multiple mirrors show all your pale bulges spilling out over your knickers/bra in unforgiving spotlights, all declaring that "yes! Your bum does look big (enormous) in this!"ReplyDelete
Liz, you're lucky. I can see every spot and blemish (tho' I always put on make-up for the occasion, in an attempt to improve things).
Definitely identify with this! I told my relatively new hairdresser (who is young and pretty) that I didn't like going to the hairdressers - and all she does is cut and blow dry. I use an organic, natural colour myself now and then so I don't have to suffer any longer than necessary.ReplyDelete
I was reassured when she said she didn't like going either! An added plus is that she doesn't talk too much, so all in all I can just about stand it when I have to eventually go for a cut (due, or overdue, any time now).
I cut the rest of the family's hair and wish I could cut my own for all the reaons you mention. Until he got married and moved away I had a Johnny-Depp lookalike for a hairdresser which was vastly entertaining. My new one is nice but not so devil-may-care!ReplyDelete
I just go to the hairdresser without my contacts or glasses. I look much better out of focus.ReplyDelete
I'm glad you understand, Rosemary!ReplyDelete
Alis, I really admire the ability to cut anyone's hair. I used to do my children's, and made a terrible mess; all slanting fringes and zig-zag ends.
Patsy, that's a great solution. Unfortunately, I can see all too well in the mirror; it's reading that's the problem.
Mmmmm maybe that's why I don't go to the hairdressers...ReplyDelete