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Good Hair Day

March 18, 2009 8 Comments Filed Under: Uncategorized

My teen had her hair done on Saturday. She now has a short blonde Pixie Geldof type coiffure. It looks great. £75. 

Why am I telling you this? Because she has cheered the fuck up.
The National Health Service could dispense with anti-depressants and therapy sessions if they just prescribed free hairdressing. Hair makes a tremendous difference to how you feel, especially if you are female. 
It makes sense doesn’t it? Hair is the stuff that covers your head. Your head, your brain, your mind. If the ‘covering’ doesn’t look good, then what’s inside won’t feel good. 
Old ladies used to go to the hairdressers every week. They knew a thing or two.
In my punk days in the 70s my hair progressed through every colour of the rainbow. The first time it was blue with a pink fringe. People screamed as I walked past. As buses went by, I would see all of the passengers heads whip round in shock.
Another time I had my hair dyed green and blue to match my WH Smith uniform where I worked on Saturdays. 
The first day at school after having my hair done blue, I arrived in break. Ever had 2000 kids simultaneously laugh, gasp and point at you? That, along with the day I wore a Union Jack plastic carrier bag as a mini-skirt to the Queen’s Jubilee street party, was a highlight of my youth. An old lady went up to my mum who was hanging red, white and blue bunting and said:

“Have you seen that? Disgusting isn’t it?”

My mum replied:”Yes.”

Old lady: “I wonder if she even lives in this street. Any idea who she is?”

My mum: “She’s my daughter.”

I left early to go to see The Damned and The Ramones at the Roundhouse.

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Comments

  1. ahackinhackney

    March 18, 2009 at 8:17 pm

    MsMarmitelover,

    You are a legend.

    xxx

    Reply
  2. Rog T

    March 19, 2009 at 12:17 am

    The Damned and The Ramones !!!!!

    Does it for me !

    Reply
  3. Animal Disco

    March 19, 2009 at 7:41 am

    The Damned and The Ramones…pink hair…the Queen's jubilee…Ms ML, we salute you!

    I once tried to 'rebel' against my hippy parents (read, piss them off) by getting the top half of my hair dyed pink. On coming home, my dad answered the door to me…and fell about laughing, before saying it actually looked 'rather pretty'. My mum said she fancied purple. I told them I was going to start eating meat – now THAT had a much more satisfactory effect!

    Thanks for the memories, ML.

    (ps. in answer to your previous question, the band were Europe. I wish I could say The Ramones instead! I cringe in the light of your disdainful stare).

    Reply
  4. Canal Explorer

    March 19, 2009 at 10:09 am

    Oh, you are so right!

    I had my hair done last week and it cheered me the fuck up too.

    Nothing for the self esteem like freshly done hair!

    I can't wait to see her blonde – must be quite a change!!

    Reply
  5. Ben Emlyn-Jones

    March 19, 2009 at 10:18 am

    "The National Health Service could dispense with anti-depressants and therapy sessions if they just prescribed free hairdressing."

    Ml, it sounds like you learned something from the Ben Goldacre lecture!

    My hairstyle cheers me up no end, except when I go out on a sunny day and forget to put on a hat! It's French you know. It's called Le Gitte Tres Gros et Chauve.

    Reply
  6. Mister Trippy

    March 23, 2009 at 1:20 am

    Nice memories. Oh I remember wearing straight jeans in 76/77 and walking down the street and kids pointing at me and screaming "ankle stranglers!" – but of course before long they were wearing them too. Early punk days also caused much satisfaction during school uniform inspections… We'd be lined up and Doc Reid would look us over one at a time and all the boys except me had the biggest ties with the biggest knots they could make (virtually everyone would be told to redoe their tie knot to make it smaller), wedges on their feet if they weren't wearing DM boots or soul boy loafers (max 2 inches at the back for wedge shoes) and hair on their collar (it wasn't supposed to go over the collar)… but then Doc Reid would reach me in the line with cropped hair ("who cut your hair so short?"), the narrowest sixties ties I could find ("where did you get that tie? it looks ridiculous"). And my flat shoes, no wedge, got no comment. The ruler which was deployed against virtually every other pupil never came near me. I wound Doc Reid up something chronic with this and other behaviour (possibly I made him think back to the original skinhead era when said cropheaded gangs made the school notorious enough to merit shocked tabloid coverage). However, I did get sent home when I took to stenciling prison numbers on my school shirts!

    Reply
  7. rockmother

    March 24, 2009 at 12:19 am

    I still get excited at the sight of Monkey Boots and had a sad moment last year when I bought a pair of pink and black leopard print drainpipes like my old ones from Boy c.1978 that my mum threw away in disgust. Other highlight was me scowling with side ponytail dressed in ripped black bin liner top, fake leopard mini skirt, ripped fishnets and red stiletto's as my mother shrieked "you can't go out like that people will think you are a prostitute". "Good" I said and slammed the door then immediately felt self-conscious and afraid as I staggered to the bus stop looking like a slutty version of Pretty Baby. Ah..great days. And The Damned – my favourite early band.

    Reply
  8. rockmother

    March 24, 2009 at 12:21 am

    And I got into trouble as I carved an anarchy symbol into my arm with a compass in English and it bled – oooh…such a rebel!

    Reply

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MsMarmiteLover aka Kerstin Rodgers.

Chef, photographer, author, journalist, blogger. Pioneer of the supperclub movement.

This is my food and travel blog, with recipes, reviews and travel stories. I also stray into politics, feminism, gardening.

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Kerstin Rodgers/MsMarmiteLover
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