Back to black

Believe me, I have precious little in common with the late and lamented Amy Winehouse! But the post title is still apt. I have decided that an experiment has run its course. I am going back to my black hairband.

And initially with a definite reason. I need a hairband to make my hair look better, after a self-inflicted fringe trim that didn't work.

I haven't had a proper professional hair cut and blow-dry since mid-December, nor a professionally-done fringe trim. My stylist of ten years has got her man, bought the house, had her fabulous wedding, and has now had her first baby. That was in early January. (One of four babies I heard about at that time: January seems to be a very popular month for births!) 

She's presently at home, tending of course to her beloved little treasure, but offering occasional appointments to friends and longstanding clients twice a month. The snag for me is that these are all late-afternoon times, and I'd have to battle through the rush-hour Brighton traffic to reach her. I really don't want to do that.

I've got so used to having my hair done in the country village salon she was working in after quitting her last salon in The Lanes of Brighton. I willingly followed her into the sticks. I am not however willing to rejoin the Brighton rat-race. And however good her home set-up, it will lack the stylishness, buzz and atmosphere of a busy salon. I think she'll miss that too. I'm sure that once her baby is older she'll be renting a chair somewhere and getting back into it all. But for now, it has to be - baby permitting - a part-time thing. And it doesn't suit me. My 2020 caravanning season is fast approaching, and I need to set up my hair appointments when my schedule allows, not at these odd moments. The dates she can offer are mostly no good, even if I were willing to steel myself and endure the traffic.

So it looks as if a natural moment has come to quietly detach myself and float away to another stylist. Not that my simple hairstyle needs anything more than a competent cut now and then. Which is another thing. The cost of getting my hair seen to was getting a bit high, and I'd rather spend the money on more ambitious holidays while I have the energy for them, and extra savings for that fancy electric car I have in mind five years ahead!

My hair has grown a bit since December, and the layering and shape it had then is slowly unravelling. I don't mind; for various reasons, I would now like to grow my hair rather longer and eventually get it restyled slightly differently.

Growing my hair longer was discouraged by my stylist, because growth on my right side wasn't as luxuriant as on my left, leading to an imbalance. Well, there is something in that; but I want to see how it really works out if I let my hair reach my shoulders like it did ten years ago. If it looks odd, then so be it, I'll resign myself to shorter hair. But it's worth going for extra length, and finding out for myself. If there's any way to go forward with longer hair, I'm going to do it.

And there's a clear financial advantage: longer intervals between cuts will save me money! And if I behave like a tart, and flit between salons without ever getting fixed at one only, then I can escape buying my shampoo and conditioner from them - which also saves money. I know a place where I can buy these things at close to the trade price.

Meanwhile, the fringe needs regular attention. I love my fringe and will always keep it. But my goodness, how quickly it grows down over my eyes! It needs trimming at least twice as often as the rest of my hair.

One of my local friends, Valerie, had a go at trimming it in January. She did a subtle job. But three weeks on, with strands tickling my eyes again, I had a go myself.

This was a big mistake! I do not have the skill to get it right. And whenever I've done this before - in the middle of a long holiday, for instance -  I always end up cutting too much off, and I leave a hard line. The proverbial pudding-bowl cut. So when they see me again, my local girl friends will purse their lips and nag me no end, and I can't blame them. And my stylist always knew when I'd been tinkering, even if I'd merely had a couple of tentative snips; she'd tut-tut, appalled, and tell me off.

But I never learn my lesson. Let's face it, I hate being told what to do. I reserve the right to do whatever I like with my own hair - and my own body. It's mine: hands off.

Well, I hacked at that fringe again and it looked bad. And my friends were aghast.

Jo had a go at softening the edges yesterday, which she did very carefully. And it has helped. But really it will take at least another two weeks before it grows sufficiently to resemble the way it normally looks after a proper professional cut.

I'm minded now to leave my hair alone, and just pop into a salon in late March or early April, when away on holiday. There's bound to be a decentish place I can go to in Truro or Bideford or Barnstaple - just to tidy it up all round, but keeping the length that I'm trying to gain. I'll make it one of my Holiday Experiences!

And here's where the hairband comes in. When I wear one, it accentuates and flattens the fringe, so that it spreads out a bit and comes closer to my eyes. At the present time, that's important.

I've got one on now, not a black band (I binned the old one as a New Year's Resolution) but a tortoiseshell one - which looks fine, although I think that in the end I'll revert to black all the time. It's both comfortable (and comforting) to wear. I'd missed having one on my head. Well, the New Year Experiment is now over. I want my old look back. Half the people in my life liked it, half didn't, but I'm going to do what I want to.

I think I will buy a variety of hairbands in various styles, to wear with different outfits and suit different occasions. Why not? But for day-to-day wear, the simple black hoop. Back to black.

I expect everyone is thoroughly bored with pictures of me, but I do want to make a point - which is, that in my own opinion hairbands suit me, whatever the situation. Although I will admit that (contrary to a longstanding assertion) they don't in fact do much to control the hair in a breeze! Here's a selection of hairband-selfies from 2019, to illustrate what I mean:

I hope you agree. But I'm going to be philosophical if you can't concur.

Sequel - same day
Boots had what I wanted: a black hairband. Only £3.00. I'm back in business.