Word on a Whim

What began as a blog about writing and publishing has become a blog of whatever I feel like writing. Jules Lucton.

Hair

I never have been one to bother much about hair styles, always being a wash and leave girl … yet I do know when it needs cutting.  I have thin dark hair with a white head that tends to shine through, especially when sitting beneath an office light, an effect that is accentuated as the hair grows longer.  It was my son who first pointed it out to me, some years ago (with that invaluable and direct approach our children have) “I can see your head.”  I also have him to thank for alerting me to the fact that my facial hair was getting out of hand, by piping up (in the queue at Argos) “You’re growing a beard.  And a moustache.

Back home (back then) I said to Julz, “Bill says I’m growing a beard and moustache.”  Maybe I expected him to say of course I wasn’t – but he replied, “It’s not too bad, Love.”  So, I got out the hair removal cream – the stuff you’re supposed to test on a small area first – and daubed it generously above my top lip and around my chin, and then waited.  It was tingling nicely so it must be working …  and yes, you’ve guessed – it was working rather too well, burning off a layer of skin along with the hair … and then I had to go into work the next morning and face startled, concerned expressions from my colleagues and explain what had happened!  Anyway, I’m digressing.  This was supposed to be about head hair.  I only wish it grew as healthily up there as it’s growing everywhere else these days …

I do believe the answer to thinning hair is to get it cut regularly, with layers, to maintain a little uplift.  Until this year, I always worked on sites where I could get it cut during my lunch hour.  When asked how I wanted it done I would ask them do whatever they could to make me look less bald on top, confident that people who cut hair for a living know better than I do how it will suit me best.  It only ever took them about five minutes, and then they’d ask if I wanted any more taken off.  Never really liked to ask them to go all round again!  In my new job we only get half an hour and there are no local hair shops.  It’s an early start, so I end up scraping ice off car windows hoping my hair isn’t going to freeze to my head, even in April, in England!  It gets washed in the shower every morning because it sticks out at one side or curls around in whichever direction it’s been slept on.  After trying a couple of Saturdays to get it cut without an appointment I had a go at the front myself – just chopping off the annoying bits that were hanging around my face, and made that do for a while.

Owing to my son’s adorable puppy, I’ve been WhatsApping photos of me and the pup to my Mum.  On one I sent her that was particularly lovely of Alfie, I added the comment “Excuse my bald patch,” to which she replied, bless her, “That’s not a bald patch, it’s a parting.”  Of course she said that because she is my mother and not my daughter!  “Bloody wide parting,” I replied, and experimented with moving the parting to the other side, like a bit of a comb-over 🙂

So, this weekend I was on a mission! I didn’t want my precious Saturday to revolve around a five minute hair cut but surely one of the very many hair shops in the nearest town to this village could spare five minutes to cut my hair without prior arrangement?  But, “Hoe Nyo!  Not without an appointment!”  Defeated, I mooched around the shops, recalling the expression of that one particular lady, so heavily made up that it looked like a disguise, looking at me as if I’d crawled out of a drain whilst her younger assistant (who appeared to be doing nothing) stared at my head with pity as if thinking omigod she really needs a haircut.  I almost bought a pair of ornamental meerkats from a charity shop to cheer myself up – but then remembered there was nowhere to put them and this is precisely the kind of clutter I am trying to get rid of.

When I got home, Julz looked at me with his face prepared to approve my new haircut.  It was clear from his expression that he wasn’t too sure whether I’d had it done or not, but wanted to be approving either way!  He settled for “How did it go?” So I asked him to please cut my hair, and he did.  I’m very pleased with the result – the best it’s looked for ages.  After all these years, he knows my hair better than anyone!  🙂

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2 thoughts on “Hair

  1. Oh my dear, I do like your posts 🙂
    I’ve been going through a hair ordeal (hair-deal??) for years now. I used to have lovely thick, luscious (although bright red!) hair, and now… well, now my head is either ‘shaved’ (a nice term) or ‘balding’ (less nice, but more accurate!)
    I don’t envy women and the hassle they have of getting their hair cut – the appointments, the snooty looks, the cost(!) and the potential for disaster or (even worse) not having it noticed. Whilst living in Stockport, I could get my hair cut (shaved) for a fiver, and it took about 12 minutes! It’s a bit more expensive here now (down South) but it’s still a quick and merciless job.
    I’ve slowly realised that I look the way I look, I can’t change it, so I worry about other things. From what I remember of you, you always looked good whenever I saw you, and I’m sure that’s still the same today.

    • Dear Simon, thanks for your lovely comment and input from a man hair perspective 🙂
      I remember your hair being very short, so I guess that was at the point when it was thinning and you did the sensible thing rather than attempting a ‘comb over’! xxx

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