Break from the usual: Conversation with stylist.
So, none of you knows what I look like. Basic description: stubbornly dark hair, kind of olive skin-tone, brown eyes. You get the picture: not one of the Hitler Jüngen. But, being in love with extreme style changes I went in to Edinburgh yesterday to get my hair done. When I say done I should really say “chemically obliterated”. To wit:
Before:
Natural
And now:
Whoah.
Doing my best Andy Warhol impression.
<me>: Uh, wow, this burns a little bit.
<stylist>: Oh yeah, it’ll do that.
<me>: <clenching fists furiously, face fixed in rictus of grim determination>
<stylist, hesitantly>: Oh, you might find that, uh, over the next week or so some of your hair comes away. Don’t worry, that’ll stop.
<me, alarmed>: Comes away?! Do you mean fall out?
<stylist, cheerily>: Yep!
I MAINTAIN IT IS ALL TOTALLY WORTH IT.
