Vanity

[smokingboot]

There are times in every woman's life, when she looks in the mirror and says to herself; Well my girl, you've really done it this time.

I could apply this to my entire last week, but for now I will focus on one unimportant yet unmissable catastrophe; my hair.

It started with that professional colourist november_girl took us all to. I swear to god, I was just inspired by being declared a 'Clear Winter' type. The lady advised me abandoning my fading red tints and going back to my normal colour, which to be honest, is a pretty pointless dark brown. I decided to go for it, and went for a tint which, on the packet, looked the colour I remember my hair being (bear in mind I haven't worn my natural hair colour since the year 2000)

Those packet fronts can be deceptive can't they? It's not dark brown. It's black. Really black. Not that fabulous oriental blue-black that shines against the skin, not that Indian lustre that always looks so alluring you want to bury your face in it. No, this is stark black hair against a stark white face. I'm a goth, decades after it was cool.

I have always sworn I would never do this; hard black hair has no mercy and can make one look utterly ridiculous. The worst offenders I have seen include an acquaintance from Cambridge and Prince Charles, both guilty of not dying pallid eyebrows to match inky heads, with the effect of making the eyes look like eggs in water.

I have tried all sorts of make-up with it. Right now, I am wearing a little soft pale foundation, soft pale blusher, soft pale eyeshadow and enough eyeliner to rival the Human League all piled into one gigantic pencil. Without the lipstick, I can kid myself it has a certain Carry On Cleo charm. With the lipstick I have what can most charitably be described as an evening look. I am very tempted to go and lie down next to my sleeping darling, and wake him up by staring at him; I'm convinced I could make him scream and hit the ceiling, even from a horizontal start.

So, OK, it's only going to take a few rinses and it will become less, well, just less. If it carries on looking this harsh, I'll just bung a beautiful bloody damson colour on top. Never mind what the lady says, I should stick to purple/ red on my hair. People talk about the chemicals from these things seeping into one's brain: clearly in my case, it's far too late to worry.