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Monday, 11 June 2012

A hairy anecdote

The other day I decided to go for a drastic new look. Please revise your expectations downwards -- there was no mohawk or purple hair dye involved. Purple hair is to my mind the ultimate expression of courageous fashion. A little higher up on that scale than the small things Nairobi girls wear in July. The day I dye my hair that colour, watch out, world.

My first new look lasted eleven days. I went to a little place by Adam's Arcade that a friend had recommended. The lady at the salon wrapped braid extensions around small plats to create a dreadlocks lookalike. It was pretty cool, I thought, but by day three, the 'dreds' at the back of my head were falling off. I decided to go to one of my two regular platting ladies for a remake. As I walked in the door she told me she had to run off for a doctor's appointment (thanks for telling me in advance!) and handed me over a colleague. I judge hairdressers by their gentleness. Let's just say, that colleague is not coming near my head again. Two nights of cradling my head in my hands to sleep reminded me why I only let two women do my braids.

Down came the 'dreds'. In went chunky kinky braids. They are pretty funky, if I say so myself.

After the pain of pulled-tight follicles was over, it was time to try wearing clothes with a regular neckline. Into my dress went flailing arms and what felt like a wooly medusa. Half a minute of wiggling and twisting and I was ready to face the world!

Are you considering kinky braids? Rethink whether you want to wear your LBD while you have them.

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