hilkat

Alexa is the most recent convert, Sienna has always done it and Kate set the bar when she started doing it years ago. No, I’m not talking about going out with bad indie boys, I mean sporting unkempt, unbrushed and quite frankly, shambolic, hair.

The trend of going out without even so much as looking at yourself in the mirror seems to have snowballed lately, and now everyone seems keen to appear in public looking like they just rolled out of the best party they’ve ever been to in their lives (I suppose a few actually have….but thats another article).

I, on the other hand, am never more at home than when I have a pair of straighteners in my hand, and if I’m honest nothing terrifies me more than going out with less than pristine hair. I rejoiced when GHD’s were invented (previous disasters included sellotaping my fringe to my forehead to get it to stay straight, and also a hairy - haha - encounter with an iron….) and vowed never to be seen in public with bad hair again. But this trend for messy hair has got me unnerved - what’s it all about? Does messy hair bring you some sort of enlightenment? Is that how the Chungster et al are nabbing these hot yet scruffy men? If you abandon brushing your hair are you therefore abandoning restraints and setting yourself free?

I have decided I want to know the secrets, and am therefore abandoning my twenty minute hair routine. I am joining….. The Great Unwashed!

Day One
Being pregnant, I have decided that if this backfires totally, I can just blame it on the hormones. And if everything works out fine then I can claim that even when expecting, I was still fashion conscious and did not turn into a lobotomised woman who talks about nothing but nappies and nipples. I see this as a win-win situation for me. Buoyed by my new found enthusiasm for the project, I decide that shopping with the mother is the perfect way to start the proceedings - where better to try my new ‘do than surrounded by other style mavens?

After scrutinising pictures of my new idols, I notice that while Sienna looks dishevelled, she isn’t totally working the hobo look. I decide to go for tustled rather than tramp, and reach for my straighteners - just to tidy things up a little. The outcome is not too bad, in fact I feel rather pleased with the result - and what’s even better is that it took half the time.

I spend the day surreptitiously glancing in shop windows as I walk past to check the status of my new look, and even find myself comparing hair with other girls; I spot a few ‘too bouncy’, several ‘too done’ and even one ‘too clean’. I feel rather smug, and pity those who are chained to their straighteners, particularly the blonde girl on the bus who has attempted some sort of ‘fake bed head’. Pffft, I think, cheat. I bet she uses TiGi.

Day Two
Things have gone limp overnight. After such a positive start to the week, I now look like I’ve done a double shift in McDonalds. Typical really, since today is the day I am meeting my fashion graduate friend for lunch. I greet her sheepishly - will she notice my hair looks….different? After about an hour I have counted at least five surreptitious glances at my birds nest hair, and feel the need to explain myself. She sort of laughs half heartedly, but I get the distinct impression she doesn’t understand. Over lunch I gaze at her clean, freshly washed, smooth hair jealously and think wistfully of my straighteners, who by now must be feeling abandoned and lonely.

Once home I peer into the mirror and try to work out why I dont look like Sienna Miller yet. Surprisingly, I do not find the answers lodged in my tangles. Sigh.

Day Three
A quick read on the internet reveals that this messy hair business may not be a case of simply avoiding a hairbrush and hoping for the best. Apparently Alexa was quoted as saying it took quite a bit of effort to master. ‘Aha!’ I think triumphantly, ‘to the bathroom!’ I decide that after washing I will leave nature to run its course, picturing glorious flicks and waves where my limp locks once were.

Two hours later I am the proud owner of one spiral perm. Acceptable in the 80’s? Maybe so, but it’s far from acceptable now. Mission aborted. I cheerfully conclude while reaching for my GHDs that the only thing you need when working messy hair is NOT a nonchalent attitude, but a bloody good stylist.

This entry was posted on Friday, June 6th, 2008 at 11:34 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.