I'm not a big fan of blogging about every single thing I do - for a few reasons.
Firstly, I don't have time and can't be bothered. Secondly, I don't actually think people care about all the mundane details of my days.
However, this is one mundane experience that everyone experiences and that I feel compelled to write about....because it involves my hair. It's my crowning glory and without it, I'd be like Samson - powerless without it.
I find haircuts traumatic. Honestly, I do. I have a very close friend who goes into slight mourning every time she celebrates a birthday....well that's me about my hair. I don't think it grows overly quickly and I love it long, so every time I have to have a chop-chop, I really dislike it.
After my favourite hairdresser changed jobs and stopped cutting, I had to find another place. Good old Jena was also in need of a new stylist, so she did some super research and found us a place. The Aussie girl there promptly butchered her hair and after a heated complaint, she had it fixed by a lovely Moroccan stylist at the same salon. I've also visited and was rather impressed with her talents......until she cut my hair.
She's a far better colourist than she is a cutter - unless you're a fan of straight across the bottom, where no damage can really be done. I have super thick hair and usually need it thinned out. I wouldn't really call what happened ''thinning out'', but rather ''removing a huge chunk in the name of thinning and hoping Lauren won't notice it''.
Lauren did indeed notice it when she was straightening her hair 2 days later. Safely tucked away towards the back on each side was a chunk of hair no longer than 12cm. Yes that's right, 12cm!! The rest of my hair hangs almost halfway down my back, so 12cm locks were a BIG deal. Horrified, I went back when I next was due for a cut and asked what the missing chunk was all about.
She giggled in an I-don't-really-know-what-you're-asking-me-because-we've-got-a-slight-language-barrier way and brushed it off as ''thinning''.
I promptly decided never to return and set about finding a new place to have my baby-trims. I was so traumatised I then waited for almost 6 months and am pleased to announce my missing chunk has grown a little longer.
I will happily say that my new place of hairdressing is Jens Hair Studio (without an apostrophe, I know), in the White Crown building on Sh Zayed Road. My hairdresser is a funky young Sri Lankan girl and she did a fantastic cut and super-straight blow dry/straightener combo.
They also do super cheap manicures AND they use OPI, my super-fave polish range.
Speaking of OPI, they've released a new line - and they're sparkle-tastic. LITERALLY!! If you happen to find yourself in the USA (particularly the Galleria Mall in Houston), head straight to an OPI stockist and check out ''Bring on the bling'' and ''Show it and glow it''.
They're beyond fantastic - Jena and I have both blinged up our nails in honour of Australia Day today and are giggling like school girls who've discovered sparkle polish for the first time.
AT $8.50 a pop (plus tax, naturally), they're a nice way to recapture one's youth without actually having to be a painful 16 again....!!
