Very unproductive day yesterday. I had to stay with Cutie in kindergarten for one hour and then the morning was too short because I had to go and pick my other kids from school. Very little got done, I only managed to work on my couch project (yes, another one. One I can work on when I have to sit and wait… It’s that or thinking. I think too much and it’s not very positive, so I better keep myself busy).

So today, I will take you to the past. I’ll show you one year in the life of my hair. With pictures!
We’ll start in middle 1994. The year of the revelations for me.
My hair was until that year, always long. Wavy/curly. The kind of hair that any woman with straight hair would kill to have. But of course, if you have curls, you’ll kill to have straight hair. Just so you can picture how my hair looked like then, here is Andie MacDowell posing with it.


One evening I stood in front of the mirror and thought how much time my hair took from my life. “What a waste!!” Hours a week washing it and combing it (only when it was wet, otherwise I looked like a lamp. Like those lamps with kind of thin body and BIG head) .

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So I went to the kitchen took a pair of scissors and said to my mom: “Please cut here, or I will” “Are you insane?” “I prefer if you do it, at least it’ll be even” “Are you sure?” “Yes!”. So my mom didn’t have a choice and cut my hair. Shorter length than the shoulders. There is Sigourney Weaver posing with it.


I thought that shorter hair was going to be less work. I was WRONG. Every morning I woke up and my hair looked different than the previous day. So every day I had to work hard to make it look like I didn’t just had woken up (even tho, mostly it was that way). Some months past and I got tired of fighting my hair. This time, nobody dared to cut it for me, so I had to go to a hairdresser. (I HATE PEOPLE TOUCHING MY HAIR). So I let it cut a lot shorter, in an attempt to avoid going to the hairdresser again. There is Marisa Tomei posing with it.


I LOVED that haircut. I dyed it very dark brown and around one month after I had it, I asked my sister to put some products on it to make it straight so I wouldn’t have to add gel or mousse or anything. It looked amazing! And it was very easy to manage.
I was very happy until a couple of months later when it grew some more and I needed to straighten it again because it was looking a bit strange.
So I asked my sister to put the products on my hair again. I don’t remember why, but it could be that she wasn’t talking to me that day because she refused to do it. We used to fight every day and then she stopped talking to me and I would see how long she could stay mad at me… not long, I always made her laugh and then she started talking to me.
So I asked my mom to do it, but she was already in bed. The only two persons still awake were my brother and my dad. So I asked my brother to put the first layer. Then 20 minutes had to pass and put again a second layer. But before the 20 minutes passed, his stupid TV program finished and he went to bed. I think it was around 11.30pm. So I had no choice that to go to my dad and ask him, while he was watching some action movie, to do it for me. I explained him EXACTLY what he had to do. I guess that Bruce Willis was more interesting than my hair… And I’ll tell you why soon.
The other 20 minutes passed and then it was time to rinse it. While I was under the shower, my hair didn’t seem to get wet at all. I was suspecting that something was wrong with it. I put some conditioner but it didn’t respond as it was supposed to. I tried combing it but it was very hard, almost impossible. So I decided to get out the shower and face the mirror. I couldn’t really see myself because the bathroom was still a bit misty. After a few minutes, I took off the towel I had on my head and I almost died of a heart attack.

I couldn’t find a picture with a woman with shorter hair. But imagine me with the hair just above the shoulders. I looked like that.


The dark brown became reddish (BURNT!!) and there was no way to make it flat against my skull. Next day, I had a party at 8.00pm and an exam in the morning and I couldn’t manage to go to a hairdresser early and ask her to fix it until I got back from school. The only thing that came to my mind, was to put some gel on it and see if it would hold the hair down. Some gel was almost a whole pot. I looked like this:


To my surprise, EVERYBODY loved my “French Style”. The only thing I said then was: “Don’t get used to it, it’s just for today”. Later that afternoon I got home, took a shower, put a baseball cap on my head and went running to the hairdresser. I said to her: “Don’t ask, just cut”. Asking a hair dresser not to ask is like begging the apple tree to give pears. So I found myself telling the story to her… And to the other women around. Again and again because when more women got there, the others ones told them. (I was new to the “hair salon code”).
The hairdresser said: “Go home and dye it. Come back in 10 days, I have to cut it again. And after that, once more (at least), then all the burnt hair will be gone).
There is Aissa Milano posing with my new hairstyle.


I kept it really short for a couple of months. Not that I had many options.
Later on, my hair grew a bit and it was wavy (but I decided to live with the curls). I only kept the back part short and a bit longer all the rest.
In July/August 1995, together with my sister and a friend, we traveled to Europe. The last week, when our train pass (Eurail Pass) expired, we stayed in Spain. We got a tent and went camping near the beach. Three days before going back home, it was raining. No beach that day. What could we do? “Let’s go to the hair dresser and get some crazy look before going home” I said to my sister and friend. “OK!!” So once we were there, my friend chickened out. My sister shaved half hair and dyed it purple. And I fulfilled my dream of having red hair. I was HAPPY!!
There is how it looked.


Next day, beach day. I said to my friends, I’m going to swim for a bit. I left. While I was swimming, quite far from the shore, two German guys drinking beer on an inflatable boat approached me. They offered me a beer. I politely declined it for 2 reasons: 1) I’m not sure I was able to keep floating and drinking at the same time. 2) It was over 35ºC/95ºF and the beers were on the boat taking a sun bath who knows for how long.
The guys kept drinking beer comfortably and I was still floating. I think we were talking there for a really long time because my muscles started to hurt. At one point I said to the guys: “I have to go back, my friends will get worried, they’ll think I drowned”. So I said bye to them and went to where the girls were laying. I asked my sister: “Were you not worried that I was there for SO LONG?” “No, we could ALWAYS see you” “How so? There are like 300000 persons in the sea”.
Later that day at the camping, I showered, and I was looking at myself in the mirror: “WTF?!?! Now I understand why the girls could ALWAYS see me”.
I looked like that:


I know that’s a dude, but he was the only one with the same hair color. Apparently, sea water and sun don’t agree much with fake red hair.
The girls said later: “It was hard to miss THE BUOY!!”


~ by DotedOn on September 23, 2014.

5 Responses to “00:27.4”

  1. Twin P,
    Today is the second time I’ve lost a very good long reply via iPad. It will not happen again. for sure if I throw it across the room. This was to make my life easier so I could work on couch instead of hard chair. I say bullshit. Time for a late lunch then off to my office.
    Twin M


  2. I’m playing catch up on my reading–thank god I didn’t miss this one–I needed a laugh! I love the travel down memory hair lane! Hysterical! You are far more adventurous than me–such sweet memories, LOL!


  3. […] I’m sorry I don’t have pictures to show all the different styles. You can check THIS post to know the full […]


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