I'm only as good as my hair..

I love glamour. I love walking out of the house feeling well groomed and ready to face the world. This probably explains my adoration of 1940’s fashion. And whilst for some people this air of polish comes very naturally (i.e. my immaculate client at IKEA) for me, at this time of year, the perfect hair and makeup are often a world away.

See I’ve been “blessed” with wavy hair, hair that loves to show-off how reactive it is to moisture. So whilst the summer months go by without many disasters, as the nights draw in and the air dampens my mane becomes my nemesis. Take this morning for instance; up early for a powerplate class so had a quick shower, put serum through my locks and went on my way. Fast forward 45 minutes and I’m standing waiting for the bus with hair that can only be described as Phil Spector-esque... joy

Thankfully most people are kind. The people on my team rarely point and laugh and my mum, bless her, actually prefers me with mountainous hair. Even my boyfriend thinks it looks “nice” and “natural”, but he’s a very good liar.

So I say please roll on Spring or at the least a 1940's headscarf revival!

  

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