“there is only one cure for gray hair. it was invented by a frenchman. it is called the guillotine.” // p. wodehouse
i haven’t had my hair tended to since sometime in april.
though some leave their nails by the side of the road when things go a bit pear-shaped, for me – it’ll be my hair that has to fend for itself, becoming a sad and empty shell of its former, large and poufy self. considering too, the abuse i put it through – the sprays, the heat, the pulling and breaking – it’s rather a surprise that i have any mop to lament at all.
what’s more? though the appointment to have the twice yearly cut and colour was made, i couldn’t make it – and had to cancel at the last minute. i shrugged the cut off, but the frame of grey that becomes impossible to ignore after roughly 82 days – was covered up one tuesday evening by the aide of blur on shuffle, a ripped up tee, and a box of clairol’s natural instincts #20.
to be honest – i can’t tell the difference between that 30 minute dye-job over the salon job – but i can no longer ignore that my hair is now paying the price for my blatant disregard, and when things begin to even themselves out, i’m really going to have to make amends.
➝ source : ghost oil via verb
➝ source : regenerating mask via christophe robin
➝ source : nounou conditioner via davines