I am 60. Time for a new me. I have always been afraid of going to the Hairdresser's. Maybe it was that perm my mother made me have when I was 15 ... or was it that my sister could always have long hair but not me. Between 18 and 32 it grew to below my posterior. Gradually it was made shorter. Then I grew it long again and Damian of John Olivers, Norwich cut it regularly for over 10 years. Brave man. At 55 I just let it grow ... something about wanting my last youth I seem to remember!!! It had been growing for over 5 years and was longer one side than the other because as I twirled it on top of the head with long metal scissor-like pins they eventually broke the hair! I loved the feel of the long hair but it could never be worn loose as it would just fly around and be in the way of cleaning, cooking and just living. I had dipped out of going to appointments for about three years - cancelling them when I lost courage. Really I wanted to stop looking and feeling senile, so my daughter was instructed to come with me and block all exits. An emergency appointment was made and Philip of the same establishment discussed the crisis and was OK about my plan to plait the hair and cut off the plaits ostensibly to use IF we ever do mediaeval re-enactment again. Snip. Snip. Now he can style the shortened hair. AND what was the problem Madam? I am free again. Yes. Great. A new woman. Oh.. and those plaits.. they are in a plastic bag and one day they are going to have a burial. My dead energy is in them.
Thankyou to my daughter who would take no nonsense, to Damian who stopped to chat, to Philip who needs new scissors, to Francesca who thought it was fun, and to the staff of John Olivers for washing the hair, for making me tea and for taking the photos. Best Hairdresser in Norwich Award from me, Sweetpea.