the blow dry
I tend not to give a toss about my hair.
In high school I went through a phase of getting up at 5.30am to curl the entirety of my head, but by 'phase' I mean it happened about four times. I have had every colour of hair under the sun (from darkest brown to peroxide blonde with a healthy dollop of purple thrown in circa 2004 and frequent flirtations with ginger) but when it comes to style I have a penchant for the scruffy look and do little more than a half-assed blow dry, if at all, and perhaps some strenuous back-combing and hair-spraying before a night out. It's most probably laziness although I like to call it the Mary-Kate effect, and I was perfectly happy in my Olsen triplet delusion. But then I went to McIntyres.
Normally I leave from my hair appointments with poker straight hair, wholly devoid of body and movement and life. Even when I protest that I don't wear my hair straight, out come the GHDs glistening under the bright lights because "it'll just smooth it out a bit."
Not this time.
This is the most beautiful blow-dry I have ever had. I practically skipped with glee all the way home from the hairdressers, hair bouncing behind me, feeling like a veritable Kate Middleton, all polished and prim and proper and princess like. It's quite astonishing how much a good hair style can lift your spirits!
If only I could recreate this at home.
How do hairdressers manage to make the round brush blow dry look so easy?