Wednesday, 28 March 2012

Orange hair

I dyed my hair blonde orange Monday night.

I turned to my policemate and held out the two boxes: bleach and dye. "See," I explained. "It takes TWO steps, and that's how you don't go orange."

She stared.

I started.

I used to be blonde. I think it's one of those fun, sassy, light, playful shades, with a bit of mischief and a hint of a wink.

I also used to be tan. Oh England...

I marched out into the livingroom after box one and two. Shoulders back, head up, like a cadet going into battle.


My policemate blinked. Smiled tentatively.

"It's... you're... well, brave for trying!"

Tuesday morning, after desperate communication with two very amused bosses, I sent the following to my company:

"I've superglued a tabby cat to my head.

That, or I tried to dye my hair blonde, myself, at home, last night.

Both probably would produce the same result.

Lacking the desire to join the Federation of Trolls (google them, if you don't know what they are. American pop culture!), and nervous about confusing drivers (is that a red light? yellow light?), I'm working from home this morning so a professional can fix my mistake.

Will be reachable by phone, email, and dye fumes.

In as soon as possible.

-humbled and not a hairstylist, Danae "

The responses back were fantastic, ranging from the supportive ('At least it's not receding!') to the amused ('this made us chuckle so hard') to the fashionable ('match it with orange shoes, it will be fine!'). My hair even inspired creativity ('I wanted to decorate your desk with all these orange post-it notes... I forgot.').

"Oh Danae..." My colleague giggled when I walked in several hours later, with all traces of orange bleached aggressively from my hair. "Only you would do this."

Of course. Because I'm impulsive and impatient and like to try things, everything, all things. Add in a dash of independence and a healthy dose of optimism, and there's a recipe for the love child of Cher and Carrot Top. Right there. On my head.

I giggled back.

"On the bright side, I can't feel my scalp anymore."

"That's the bright side?"

"And all the fumes have made me extra creative."

My colleague laughed and I laughed and then I sat down and got to work.

Just another day in my London life...

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