Don’t mess too much with your hair or by the time you’re 40 it will look 85. -Mary Schmich
The regular walked in and for the first time she was wearing a happy-coloured head scarf. Coffee’s on me today, I told her. Decaf right?
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I only ever fancied men with dark, dark hair, but Legolas and Spike once caught my eye. However, they’re not human are they?… So does that really count?
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She was bigger than Miley in China, a pint-sized-fair-superstar. The locals all wanted to pose with her for photos, but none ever, ever touched what they prized the most, her long, spirally, spaghetti-coloured hair.
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Granny always was a red-head. Frizzy, curly and cropped short. An orangey-halo. The day she stopped dying her hair I stood frozen on the linoleum floor looking up at her. She was completely grey. And she suddenly looked old…like a… granny.
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Shite the hairdresser sighed holding my hair in one hand. At least I wont need to thin it out anymore, he said, oh…don’t worry…I doubt anyone else would notice. I looked down at the effen-awesome-heels I was rockin’.
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What are you doing? I asked eyeing the box in the bathroom. It’s just getting too grey he said. But I thought quietly to myself… that’s the way I like it.
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Dad was completely silver by twenty-five. Look at my back though, he would say…not a silver one there. Go fucking figure.
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Our friend the ginger-ninja once admitted that she couldn’t find a scrunchie so she used a g-string to tie her hair up with. My daughter wanted to know where the ginger-ninja got a violin string from? I wanted to know who the bloody-hell still wears scrunchies?
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Nonno’s head looks like a bowling ball! They laughed. Hey! I said, that’s not a nice thing to say. What? Why? We love bowling!
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My hair is curly and I straighten it every day. I curse at it, and at how effen long it takes to make look nice. And then I remember the regular.
And… I curse at it a little less.