Limp up the stairs to the bathroom, making loud ‘give me sympathy’ noises. ‘You in the loo?’ shouts Adrian. My response is unprintable.
There’s an awful lot of hair coming out but, hey, plenty more where that came from. As long as I don’t kill the whole lot again, I’m not too worried. I have a long history of generally playing fast and loose with my follicles. I don’t think I have sported my natural colour (actually a rather nice auburn as far as I can remember) since I was sixteen.
What can I say? I get bored. I’ve resisted tattoos (would be a slippery slope) and piercings (having encountered enough bolts and screws to build a house when I was an arts journalist and a sex columnist) but hair? Easy come, easy go. I once dyed it so much it turned into green slime.
Anyhow, given I can’t exercise I have to do something to keep myself out of trouble, so I decided to give Frieda a whirl. You know, it’s not bad. The foam bit was fun. Okay, so it looked like I’d thrown up in the sink and I’ve probably poisoned the entire neighbourhood with the remains, but my hair feels sort of soft and bouncy. The colour’s a bit brown though... a bit boring. Hmm, might have to try something different... what you reckon? White? Or buck the general trend and dye it grey?
Long time back, I promised to give you a laugh... well, here you go... a few of the many and various past looks of Jane Alexander...
Is this part of the Journey? Heck yeah! One needs to look one’s best when travelling, no? ;) Not to mention looking back and laughing one's socks off...
Anyone care to take up this particular challenge and go with it on your blog? Double dare ya!
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