Bad Hair Day

Oh, what to do with my hair. It has gone past the point of looking respectable, being manageable or needing a cut. I can't even say that it is in an 'in-between' stage. It's just a flippy-floppy mop.

Throughout my life, my hair has been one of two styles - cropped short or a mid-length boring, untextured bob (with and without fringe). It is fine, relatively straight except for an annoying curl at the ends (one side curls in, the other flicks out). It falls forwards over my face all of the time. It is too slippery to tie back unless I use more clips than hair. There is so much of it that any form of volume is not an option without copious amounts of 'product' and half an hour of hanging upside down to counteract the forces of gravity.

Hairdressers frequently sigh 45 minutes in to a cut and comment "you do have a lot of hair, don't you?"

Yes. I do. That is what I said when I booked the appointment, but oh no, you thought you knew better and booked me in to a 30 minute time slot. But don't worry, you're not the first and you won't be the last to make that mistake. Now shut up and keep cutting - you've got a long way to go yet before you're done.

So now I am on my fourth attempt to grow it long in a futile attempt to become less of a tomboy and I have reached the stage where it isn't long enough to tie back and my fringe is neither long nor short. I ask the hairdressers to cut texture in to my hair every time, and it makes no difference - it remains boringly plain. Whether or not I am more feminine, my hair is helping me to feel far from attractive.

Yesterday I decided to clip it back from my face whilst still wet because I could not be bothered to attempt to style it. It looked bloody awful but I consoled myself with the fact that I was not planning to leave the house and therefore did not need to look presentable. Two hours later (when half of the clips had started to slide out) I nipped outside to fill the recycling bin, and ended up having a 15 minute conversation with my neighbour who just happened to be leaving the house. The fact that I was wearing no make-up, baggy jogging bottoms and fleecy top did not help to boost my self confidence.

This morning I made slightly more effort to style it, but it still looked hideous. No matter - no plans for a public appearance. And then I was visited by a rather dishy man from British Gas coming to read the meter. Great. Do come in. Pick your way through the piles of boxes and junk. Don't look at my hair.

The other thing I love about the whole hair saga is opinions from other people. When I have it cut short everyone tells me how much it suits me short. Oh how I must keep it short - it really suits my face. When I grow it out, people tell me that I look better with it long - and I usually receive these comments on the same day that I look in the mirror and make a decision to have it cut.

I've started asking people for suggestions. One conclusion that I reached a couple of weeks ago was that maybe I hated my hair looking so boring was because of my previous life as a Nun. Perhaps this was the style I had back then. I mentioned this to a couple of the women I mentor, explaining that I wanted something 'funky' and 'textured' and 'quick to deal with'. Oh no, they said, Nuns have their hair very short, therefore I needed to break that association with my previous life and grow my hair even longer. One of them suggested that I should get really long hair extensions. Whaaaat?!?

So what else might I be bringing forwards in to this life that I could change? Well, for one thing, I have never been interested in fashion. Shopping for clothes bores me. I find the process of choosing what to wear an utter bore. I choose the easy option every day. Jeans and jumpers are my new version of the 'Habit' - something to sling on without thinking about it. The difference between this and my hair is that I feel much better about myself when I do make an effort with what I wear.

I think that in life there are some things we pull forwards from past lives that we don't need to change in this one. What matters is that we find happiness and fulfilment in this life - that we develop our image according to what makes us feel most comfortable and confident. Forcing myself to be happy with a hair style which takes forever to style and that I still don't feel is 'me' isn't going to cut it. Pardon the pun.

Short(er) funky hair and fab clothes it is, then.