One of the highlights (no pun intended) of moving back to Cardiff for me is being able to see a good hairdresser and colourist without spending a fortune!
I have never really felt comfortable in a hairdressing salon. I don't find it relaxing or therapeutic. My eye sight is not great and I have to remove my glasses when I have my hair cut. So I sit there nervously imagining the horror that awaits me when I put my glasses back on!
My last disaster was big bouffant 80s hair which was crispy to the touch - a very unfortunate consequence of going to a hairdresser in Greenwich who charged me 50 quid for the privilege. In ordinary circumstances I would have said something and asked for another cut but I was fearful of ever decreasing amounts of hair and ever increasing volume so I decided the better course of action was to cough up and go to Canary Wharf. Getting a good hair cut in Canary Wharf is easy although expensive; colour though is wholly different ball-game. There is this awkward stand off between the incredibly hip multi-hued colourist asking me what I want and me standing there in my city uniform of silk blouse and black skirt suit wanting deep down to ask for something nice and unnoticeable, that makes me look younger and less tired but not looking like I'm lacking pigment or possibly have a tiger as a dim and distant ancestor.
And so last Friday I was back in a chair at the only hair salon where I have felt truly welcome. The only place where I always get an absolutely perfect set of highlghts. The place I trusted with my hair on my wedding day. Jelajo and more particularly Kelly - the best colourist in the world as far as I'm concerned!
No comments:
Post a Comment