SANDY LLOYD KNOWS LOVE IS IN THE HAIR
Is our relationship with our hairdresser one of the most important in a woman’s life?
It’s a relationship that can outlast marriages, span generations and play a vital role in how we feel about ourselves.
A good hair day can make us face the world with a confident smile. A bad hair day makes us want to hide. Or at least wear a hat.
It’s no surprise that the hair loss that comes with cancer treatment can be as emotionally painful for a woman as the chemo itself. And that addressing this is an essential part of her recovery.
Hairdressers are part of some of life’s big-ticket items — weddings, deb balls, graduations, cutting your child’s first curls (and putting those wisps into an envelope for a teary mum to treasure).
My hairdresser Lyn and I have shared all those big moments.
She also taught me how to do a ‘ballet bun’ when my daughter started dance classes and I had no clue how to do it. She has been cutting my children’s hair their whole lives and loves it when they’re home from uni and still come in to see her for a catch-up and a cut.
She has patiently dealt with my ever-changing hair whims. I’m one of those people who have changed their hairstyle constantly over the years — long, short, straight, curly, up, down, dyed, tipped — you name it and I’ve probably tried it.
Lyn has gently explained to me why that celebrity hair picture I’m eagerly showing her will not work for me, although she did let me have a Princess Diana cut a long time ago, because that short, layered style did actually suit me.
How many of us have hopefully thrust a picture of a celebrity with a gorgeous hairstyle in front of our own hairdresser, with the dream of walking out of the salon looking like Farrah Fawcett, Princess Diana or Jennifer Aniston (didn’t everyone want a ‘Rachel’ haircut at the height of the Friends frenzy in the '90s?).
Surely the hallmark of a good hairdresser is knowing when to say no to a crazy client request, because they know we are going to regret it. Big time.
And surely that’s part of the trust we have built up with our hairdresser that we believe them when they try to rein in our hair lust.
As Lyn wisely said to me this week — while we were discussing what I’m attempting to do with my hair next — a hairdresser needs to know when not to cut, if it’s the right thing for her client. It’s not about just whipping out the scissors every time.
Lyn was also with me for one of my biggest hair moments — deciding to give up the fight with my prematurely greying hair and stop dying it, letting nature take its course.
That’s more than 10 years ago now and, while she didn’t agree with me at the time, she has whole-heartedly helped me make the transition from bottle-brown to sensational silver. (My journey to the grey side needs a column of its own, so we’ll talk more about that another day.)
Hairdressers are so important to us, that losing one can feel like the end of the world.
Remember the bad old days, when your hairdresser left his/her salon and they wouldn’t tell you where he/she had gone? Such despair.
Less likely in these days of social media when it’s easier to find out where they’re working now. But once upon a time it was a disaster.
As we age, now our problem is our hairdressers retiring. Lyn and I are about the same age, so I’m safe for a while yet. But that’s just happened to a friend who, at 50, has to start again after being with the same hairdresser for many years.
Worse, she had recently rediscovered perms and re-embraced shaggy waves (aah, flashback to the glorious ’80s). But not every salon does perms these days, so she’s struggling to start a new hair relationship.
When she does, I wonder what the salon will be called? Because if there’s a downside to hairdressers, it’s the awful puns they sometimes use in their business names.
It’s not too bad in Shepparton, but a quick Google throws up some rippers: Curl Up And Dye, Comb As You Are, A Cut Above, Hair Force One, Hair to Please, Shear Delight, British Hairways, Shear Madness. Or how about a literary/TV reference — Shear-lock Combs. Get it?
I AM SNEEZING...
And coughing. And itching my eyes. Hay fever season is here with a vengeance.
These past two weeks with lots of windy days mean the pollen is seriously on the move and tormenting we poor sods who are susceptible to such things.
Fellow sufferers huddle over their tissue boxes and compare remedies — what tablets/sprays/old wives’ tales do you swallow/inhale/believe in?
Walking the dog has become an epic nose-blowing expedition. But there’s always someone worse off — usually my brother, who makes hay for a living.
That’s the definition of nasal suffering.
I AM AMUSED BY...
The supermarket giants’ use of 1970s rock songs for their advertising campaigns.
For years Coles has been mutilating English band Status Quo’s 1975 song, Down Down, for its ads (with the dubious assistance of the ageing rockers themselves). It was once a great rock song with a wicked guitar riff. Not anymore.
And now Woolworths has mangled 1976’s Blitzkrieg Bop, by American punk rockers the Ramones.
Some advertising ‘genius’ has taken the iconic Hey, ho, let’s go line and turned it into Hey, ho, let’s grow to promote Woolies’ Discovery Garden collectable giveaways. What’s next?
I AM WATCHING...
A delightful BBC comedy called Ghosts on ABC iview. I wish you could do the same, but it has vanished after only a month.
It stars the talented writers and actors from one of the UK’s best-ever children’s programs, Horrible Histories (which many parents have loved watching as well).
They’ve brought their historical characters with them to the new (adult) show, this time as ghosts from different times all haunting the place they died.
Into this old house comes a young couple planning to renovate and chaos ensues. If it comes back, jump on it. Very clever and very funny.
I AM MISERABLE...
Daylight saving has returned. Come on, give me a break. Just as the sun is coming up at a respectable time, with a stroke of the clock we’re back to sunrise at 6.45am.
I know everyone wants more sunlight at the end of the day, but our days were lengthening naturally anyway.
Western Australia and Queensland have the right idea — residents in those two states got to vote, and they said ‘no’ to daylight saving. Several times. I’d like the chance to say ‘no’ as well.
At the very least, remove October and March from the process — six months is just too long.