Sunday, 4 November 2012

Week 61- asymmetrical fringes, police warnings and Of Mice and Men


Nancy's had her first haircut. And it's not great.
 
I now realise why my sister and I looked a bit simple in early pictures. It's because we had matching home-styled 'Lennie from Of Mice and Men' barnets.

It's virtually impossible to keep a one year old still for long enough to trust yourself with a razor-sharp implement right next to their eyes.

After attempt three of her thrashing around and trying to make a grab for the scissors, I bribed her with milk and set to with what turned out to be completely blunt implements that would probably only bend paper.
 
So, having tried another pair on my own hair, and cutting a chunk off which will definitely be missed as it's getting thinner and duller by the day, we went in for round four.

I've got a bit of a history of cutting my friends' hair.
 
And not in a good way.
 
It started at school when I cut my mates' shoulder-length hair into a bob, when the brief was very specifically only a trim. I'd started at one end and kept going round and up, until it was a centimetre shorter on the left, and half a foot less on the right.

This was followed by a period of self-employed hair braiding, or 'twat wrapping' as it became known, wrapping embroidery thread around thinly plaited hair, while sitting off on a tie-dye throw outside the Happy Hippy Hut in Lincoln. This vocation was cut short when the police informed me that I'd be arrested for tax evasion if I didn't stop trading.
 
Which was a bit harsh seeing as I only made about seven pounds a day.

But university was when I really came into my own as far as hairdressing went. I would cut and colour badly. From ginger that was intended to be blonde to green that was meant to be ginger. And fringes so short they'd take months and months to grow out.

But my best worst cut was an attempted crop, which went so disasterously wrong that my friend had to take matters into her own hands and visit the professionals. The hairdresser was so appalled at what had happened, and the cut took so long to rectify, that by the end they had arranged to go out for a drink.

Several years and two children later, they are now happily married. I'm not taking credit for any of it, but I suspect the dodge haircut may have helped in a very tiny way.

So as I confidently took to Nancy's hair, it was no surprise that she ended up with an asymmetrical fringe, making her look a tad like Marcus from About a Boy.

Never mind. It'll grow back. (A phrase very familiar to anyone who's had the pleasure of one of my haircuts.)

And if history is anything to go by, it could be the start of something beautiful.

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