At this point in time my hair is long, dark and in relatively decent condition. I try hard to stick to regular trims and have even ditched the dye in an attempt to embrace my naturally dark locks. My hair, by all accounts, is happy. This however has not always been the case. My hair has been miserable and at times enraged with me but we are in a good place right now. It's time to own my mistakes and say sorry for some of the acts of cruelty I have inflicted on my hair over the years.
I'm Sorry I Tried to Replicate Posh Spice, Circa 1999
You were bobbed and shiny, I was 12 and I hated you. You just weren't cool enough when we got to secondary school and I begged my mum to let me cut you off (she agreed in the end, so she is also to blame). Posh had a dream haircut and it was very very short. The one thing I overlooked however, was the fact I was not a slim pop star in my 20s, I was a chubby preteen at a comprehensive school in East Anglia. You looked terrible and I instantly loathed you. I stuck hair springs (remember them?) in you to try and make you look more feminine. You kicked back with an intense and previously unknown natural wave so styling you was impossible. I'm sorry.
I'm Sorry I Braided You
I had reached that tentative age of 16 and was about to go to my first festival. You were long and I thought you were boring. I spent hours with a fellow "alternative" friend and we painstaking braided mountains of fake red hair into you. The braids came down to my bum and they gave me headache for the entirety of the time they were there (about a month). When I took the red hair out, you seemed thin and limp, you were broken and sad. I did this to you over and over again throughout my teen years and even wrapped you in black and white wool; an elderly gentleman once referred to you as a "crazy hat". My bad.
I'm Sorry I Tried to Make You Blonde
I'd made friends with an hairdresser in training who swore he could do it. I started off with subtle highlights which you didn't respond well to so I pushed you when I should have stopped. I bleached the crap out of you and you took offense, protesting by turning white in some places and yellow in others, before admitting defeat and falling out. I have naturally black eyebrows and would therefore never be seen as a natural blonde. I should have listened to you. For this I apologise.
I'm Sorry You Were Salmon Coloured for a While
I had been watching a reality TV programme about hairdressers and became obsessed with a woman called Mel. She had a bright red fringe; I had to have it. I bypassed the hairdressers and slapped a load of bleach onto the front of you, then chucked red dye over the top. To be fair, at the time I thought you looked fabulous, but you soon cast aside this vibrancy and were left a terrible shade of salmon. I tried to rectify the situation by dying you dark brown but the salmon kept coming through, eventually settling into an odd ginger shade. You were this weird salmon-ginger hybrid for 6 months. Please forgive me.
For all of my hair atrocities, I beg for your forgiveness. Let's forget the past and go into the future together in harmony. We'll see how things go for the next 10 years, and then hopefully I can write you a love letter instead.
Barrie Stephen and has more than enough experience of hair disasters, but can safely say she has learnt from her mistakes, and a few stern words from the salon professionals!