A hairy ride on the style express through life

A typical 1980s perm.
A typical 1980s perm.
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I do not have the smoothest relationship with my hair (literally) Born fair to accompany my pale pasty skin and reflecting the Glaswegian and Irish genetic traits of my predecessors, I was the only sibling to avoid the strawberry blonde (ginger) that should, by rights, have accompanied it.

As a toddler I turned a dark , shiny,brown for about five minutes, a colour I would happily have stuck to but it then transformed into a mousy shade just the wrong side of an abandoned dried teabag with my initial poker straight locks now accompanied by an unruly wave with a propesity to stand up on my head as if I had been electrocuted.

To say it looked awful was a massive understatement but at least I now fitted in with my fellow 80’s frizz-haired friends at school and was identifiable as female

Needless to say, I was not an attractive child, a fact was not helped by my mother ‘s propensity to give me an ugly homemade soupbowl haircut that made me look exactly like a homeless street urchin ( a male one). To be fair, as a young competitive swimmer. the style was definitely practical. But I retained this unfortunate look until my early teens, when - partly influenced by a comment referring to me as her son - I was allowed to start growing it.

Then I had it permed.

To say it looked awful was a massive understatement but at least I now fitted in with my fellow 80’s frizz-haired friends at school and was identifiable as female. In this pre-selfie era I did not recognise the true horror of this perm decision until later ( much later) .

Needless to to say my younger sister, who copied everything I did, also went with a permbut with much greater success ( though I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t agree.

But with ‘style’ I discovered, came ‘products’ which began a lifetime’s investment in pointless sprays gels and miracle calming, shining, spraying products that cost a small fortune and generally languish in my drawers for a few years.

Then, after spotting a few grey hairs when I was about 25, I panicked and got highlights, a habit which sees me shelling out hundreds of pounds a year on touch ups as a sight of mousy root makes me come outin a cold sweat and hives. It’s enough to make you curl up and dye.