This is a brief post especially for Miss Peevish who, when I stated that I used to have hair like my dandelion picture at the top during the 1980s, demanded photographic proof.
So, after crawling under desks on my hands and knees to retrieve some dust-encrusted ancient photograph albums, I give you pictures of my impression of Snoopy's little friend, Woodstock!
The 'arty' black and white photos were taken in 1982 for the preposterously-named Andre Bernard Hair International salon in Tunsgate, Guildford - I used to do hair modelling, mainly because I loved showing-off ("you don't say?" I hear you cry in stunned disbelief - but, yes, I'm afraid so, people...) and I was willing to sit there, literally for hours, while my scalp was burnt into blisters in order to slake my desire for snow-white hair, and the hairdressers loved it so they'd get me to be their model at hairdressing competitions in that London. Plus being a singer in a band at the time meant I had a 'stage' wardrobe and the competitions gave me another excuse to wear diamante and stilettos. And elbow length gloves. And silver Victorian belts. And black corseted prom dresses with purple spots. You know, the usual sort of 80s attire.
This all worked well until, one night at the Grosvenor House Hotel, in the midst of the competiton, my hairdresser got nervous and knicked with his scissors a mole I used to have on the back of my head (I've had it removed now), and it bled. And bled. And bled. And, of course, having whiter-than-white hair, it showed up as pink streaks. Poor Martin managed to stop panicking enough to get some cotton wool and a bowl of water to wash the blood out. He obviously did a good job because we won! Look how ecstatic we are in the winner's photograph:
In everyday life, though, I looked more like this:
There's the very faintest tint of pink left at the edges - the very tips were originally scarlet red but had faded by the time the picture was taken.
I loved having bleached white hair but the upkeep was horrendous - even so, since then, I've grown it out and redone it from scratch at least 4 times. Now, of course, I'm currently purple-ish (although it's more "Eastern European Hooker" than I would like) but am so grey that I'm considering letting all the colour grow out so I can see what I actually look like - and then run screaming for the dye bottle again!
7 comments:
I'll think of you as I head to the bathroom to 'do' my hair today. I'm always a little worried that I'll get too distracted and come out pink, but I'm not ready for the grey!
It's lovely looking through old photos- takes you right back.
Ooh, I feel so honored! Thanks for reminding me (per the prize-winner's photo) how uncool it is to get excited about anything. I keep forgetting.
I'm too terrified to see how grey my hair is, so I just keep up the coloring, as I sing: "Hello darkness, my old friend".
That last photo of you is just gorgeous, my dear.
Miss P - Oh yes, in the 1980s it was the law to be completely po-faced at all times, even when you were unbelievably excited and happy about something! The last photo makes me sigh for my lost youth - I had good skin then and no wrinkles, and was SO THIN!!!!
I hear you. Oh, to go back to those days of slenderness. Except, oh yeah, I lived on cigarettes and alcohol and drugs and was always hungover and destitute. I don't miss that part!
Oh, snap. I was existing on Red Marlboro, Earl Grey tea (couldn't afford alcohol), and spliffs (made sure I had enough money for THAT though!). Food generally consisted of individual Mr Kipling apple pies, fish finger sandwiches and sausages plus the odd 'care package' from my mother. Got down to 100 lbs at one point and looked really good (surprisingly not too skinny - about size 4 in American) but would pass out from hunger!! Now, of course, I'm an American size 12 but then I'm 28 years older! Oh well...
Oooooohh, Mrs. Jones, I had that hair, except less arty and more tufty and I never could get to white, I had to stick with yellow. If I knew how to scan I might put it up on my blog. I agree with you and Peevish, when the sweet bird of youth flew off, she took my hair color, excessive cigarette consumption, and thank Nathan the poverty. I do miss being so much cooler than I am now and I miss being thin but honestly I really enjoy all the eating I do to stay this heavy. Well done with the blue tit (that was fun to write!)
Ah, GingerB, the trick to getting snow white hair is sheer bloodyminded determination. Bleach it, bleach it and then bleach it some more and, trust me, that yellow all goes! When I did my roots I would leave the peroxide on my head for about 4 hours or so. Of course it ends up the texture of straw but who cares? It's (literally) blisteringly white. And, I have to say, I could've written your penultimate sentence.
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