Wednesday 16 July 2008

Crop idol.

It's T-minus six days until my pre-chemo haircut, and for the last week I've been wearing my hair up in protest. They say that getting a short hairdo before it all falls out is a way of taking control, so my 24-hour reliance on a hair clip must be bordering on control freakery. Anyway, fuck it. I'm not in control of much at the moment so this is about as close to a guilty pleasure as I'm currently allowed. (Speaking of banned pleasures, have I not mentioned my new antioxidant-filled diet of watercress, beetroot, broccoli, onions and green tea? It's a big fat no to barbecues, red meat, booze and animal fats, too. You'd think they'd say 'poor love, you've got cancer – treat yourself to some cake and a few Mars bars.')

But yeah, the haircut. A genius friend of mine discovered a website where you can try on the hair of various celebs. And what a brilliant, brilliant find. (On a night where I'd planned an early one, there I was at 1am, fiddling with Charlize Theron's highlights.) In need of a second (and third, and fourth) opinion, I elected a carefully chosen judges' panel of girlfriends who can always be relied on to give me the real truth about my arse/arms/thighs in that dress/top/skirt. (If only my Nan were still around to join the panel – she once told me that my headscarf made me look 'like a gypsy', hence my insistence on buying a wig instead.) P joined the panel too; not because he's good at the honest opinions (he's always quick off the mark with a 'no' after a 'does my bum look big in this?'), but because he's the unfortunate sod who's got to look at me the most.

It's a simple concept: upload a photo of yourself, choose the hair colour that most resembles your own, add highlights if necessary and let the hair hilarity begin. (How difficult is it, by the way, to find a straight-on, head-and-shoulder shot of yourself? I ruled out my inebriated-looking, eyes-half-closed passport photo immediately – every hairdo would have had me looking like a blonde Pete Doherty.)

While it's all great fun, the experience is mostly a reminder that, actually, you've probably already got the right haircut to suit your face. Unable to take that assurance right now, however, on I went, trying on blonde versions of the cream of the A-list crops from the Katie Holmes bob (too Anna Wintour) to the Mary J Blige bowl (too Boris Johnson). The Keira Knightley cut almost made it but I fear it might be a snip too far, considering the fact that my split ends have never seen action above my earlobes (plus I secretly fear my long hair has been masking a pair of FA Cup ears all this time). 

In the end, the panel settled on a barnet blend of Cate Blanchett's choppiness and Victoria Beckham's longer-at-the-front-shorter-at-the-back look. Never did I think I'd walk into a hairdressers and ask to look like Posh but hey, I never thought I'd be blogging about my bowel movements either. Funny how life goes.

2 comments:

Station Supervisor said...

A friend of mine has had a mastectomy on her her right breast and to keep herself going strong she just laughs her way through life and now treats everyday with vigour and gusto.

It's good to see you airing your views and I hope the treatment goes well, and on another view I like woman with short hair as I always wind my friend up for being as bald (I'm completely shaven) as me.

Appreciate friends like that as you will have some friends who treat you as a leper as they don't know what to say.

alex c said...

I'm as moved and saddened by your writing as I am impressed with your wit and entertained by your humour. You are fab and it's just great you can share your experiences in this frank and often funny way.

All the very best of luck.
Alex