So, hair. At my age it's probably the single most important aspect of grooming. Get it wrong and the rest of you looks wrong, too, either in the mutton sense or in the old hag sense. Get it right and you can shave years off with no invasiveness whatsoever.
As a child I dreamed of having long flowing locks, in line with my general princess fantasy, but was repeatedly subject to the pudding bowl treatment either from my mother's visiting hairdresser or my older sister's scissorial experiments, which included an unintentional Vidal Sassoon assymetrical chop which caused hilarity when I returned to boarding school after the holidays.
When I was about 14 I discovered henna, and started growing it, and lo, it looked fab. Pre-raphaelite, in line with my angular face, and it grew right down to my bra strap. My mates and I used to plait each other's hair to make it kinky and frizzy - again, how to fill the long winter nights at boarding school. So apart from a disastrous perm in my third year at university, and it falling out when I had my first son, my look was long auburn hair. At last I was a princess. I made a secret vow to myself that I would keep it long until I got married, so that I could wear it down, and what did I do? Wait until I was 38 to get married, and allowed the hairdressers to put it up. Why do they always make you look like Princess Margaret on your wedding day? Why did I let them? I pulled some tendrils out, but looking back at the pictures I wish I'd had the nerve to let it all hang out.
But I was, at last, a princess.
So what now, at 51? Well, it won't do now to keep it long. There are some quite funky stripes of grey there which I might keep, though not 50 shades of it, but it is getting thinner and since also losing 3 stone last year it makes my face look even thinner. For my 50th birthday party I had it cut into a just below chin length bob, and got the hairdresser to tong it for the party. Cute, and cool. But it grows quickly, and I decided to give it one last blast until last week, when he cut it off again to a bob. So long as I keep it tousled, I think that'll do.
Now it's the colour. I also decided to grow out the red colour, which inevitably turns rusty orange if I don't take care of it, and see what it's like au naturel. And emerging from the roots is the dirty mouse colour of my childhood, but highlighted with grey. When it all grows out, if it isn't too witchy, I think I'll get them to put silver highlights in. If you can't beat it, join it. But how exactly would that look?
And then Dommie, my 9 year old, gave me a Lego lady to look after. 'This is you, Mummy,' he said. And she was! She had kind of Veronica Lake hair with a side parting and a lovely wave down her cheeks to her neck, but it was russet with two glorious grey streaks on either side of her face. Cool, funky, age-appropriate.
What will my hairdresser say when I go in with my Lego lady and ask him 'I want that one?' Watch this space to find out his reaction!
As a child I dreamed of having long flowing locks, in line with my general princess fantasy, but was repeatedly subject to the pudding bowl treatment either from my mother's visiting hairdresser or my older sister's scissorial experiments, which included an unintentional Vidal Sassoon assymetrical chop which caused hilarity when I returned to boarding school after the holidays.
When I was about 14 I discovered henna, and started growing it, and lo, it looked fab. Pre-raphaelite, in line with my angular face, and it grew right down to my bra strap. My mates and I used to plait each other's hair to make it kinky and frizzy - again, how to fill the long winter nights at boarding school. So apart from a disastrous perm in my third year at university, and it falling out when I had my first son, my look was long auburn hair. At last I was a princess. I made a secret vow to myself that I would keep it long until I got married, so that I could wear it down, and what did I do? Wait until I was 38 to get married, and allowed the hairdressers to put it up. Why do they always make you look like Princess Margaret on your wedding day? Why did I let them? I pulled some tendrils out, but looking back at the pictures I wish I'd had the nerve to let it all hang out.
But I was, at last, a princess.
So what now, at 51? Well, it won't do now to keep it long. There are some quite funky stripes of grey there which I might keep, though not 50 shades of it, but it is getting thinner and since also losing 3 stone last year it makes my face look even thinner. For my 50th birthday party I had it cut into a just below chin length bob, and got the hairdresser to tong it for the party. Cute, and cool. But it grows quickly, and I decided to give it one last blast until last week, when he cut it off again to a bob. So long as I keep it tousled, I think that'll do.
Now it's the colour. I also decided to grow out the red colour, which inevitably turns rusty orange if I don't take care of it, and see what it's like au naturel. And emerging from the roots is the dirty mouse colour of my childhood, but highlighted with grey. When it all grows out, if it isn't too witchy, I think I'll get them to put silver highlights in. If you can't beat it, join it. But how exactly would that look?
And then Dommie, my 9 year old, gave me a Lego lady to look after. 'This is you, Mummy,' he said. And she was! She had kind of Veronica Lake hair with a side parting and a lovely wave down her cheeks to her neck, but it was russet with two glorious grey streaks on either side of her face. Cool, funky, age-appropriate.
What will my hairdresser say when I go in with my Lego lady and ask him 'I want that one?' Watch this space to find out his reaction!
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