Just because, here’s another little cheeky preview of a first draft from my second book Laughing at Myself
On the day I booked in my regular hairdresser was away, but I wasn’t worried, these ladies were all professionals, I sat in the chair, took off my spectacles, and settled into a very soft focus world. Three hours later I put my glasses back on to find I had the tightest perm that anyone has ever had, reducing my hair to about a half an inch fuzz all over my head, it was also dried out and crunchy to the touch, two qualities that hair should never really have.
It couldn’t have looked more ridiculous if I were wearing a joke wig, in shock I paid, stumbled home and was greeted with my mum’s tactful “what the f**k have you done to your hair?”. This surprisingly did not help me to feel better about my hair monstrosity, and I phoned the shop to complain.
“It just needs a deep condition”, said the lady who wasn’t my hairdresser, “perms can be ‘a bit drying”. She suggested a wax conditioner, (which I attempted to buy in several shops without success, deciding it must be the hairdressers equivalent of tartan paint). I suggested coming in to see the manager. The next day I went into the manager who said she thought it looked really ‘nice’ funny then that she didn’t have the same hairstyle herself then wasn’t it.
They didn’t offer to do anything, even when after explaining I had asked the ladies to do a light body perm, and they had told the trainee which rollers to use (the smallest rollers invented, the sort that would make pencil look on the flabby side).
At the point when I was almost immune to people’s sideways looks of horror at work, in shops, cafes, and on the bus frizz ease was invented, and although it took two hours to apply and blow dry straight, it turned my hair from crunchy poodle, to Lego helmet hair. Which at least gave me another option.
Let me know what you think of this story from Laughing at Myself
