Hair

Yes, I feel like bursting into song:

“Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair
Flow it, show it
Long as God can grow it
My hair”

After months in the hair wilderness, I finally saw the inside of a hairdressing salon again. From being a babe who was never out of the hairdresser’s, this running a crafting business has turned me into a walking recession mane, since my money now goes only on food, heating and yarn. And although I knit with a lot of fibres, I have not as yet started to knit my own hair, but if you ever see a neckwarmer named Rapunzel, you can grow suspicious…

There comes a point when you need to see again. Also, I am selling this weekend at the Home and Fashion Souks, and the stallholders, especially those vintage sellers at Belfast’s Fashion Souk, are perfectly groomed, from their 40s hairstyles to their pointed bras and dainty shoes. They look a wonderful advertisement for their goods, while I might look like an advertisement for 80s rock!
The hair had to be dealt with!

So, a shaggy straggly woman went into the hairdressing salon, and a modern gal walked out, looking sleek, feeling great. Go me!

“Hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair
Flow it, show it”

Now I can flaunt my hair, erm, knitwear tomorrow, looking just as hip as my pieces, and not like some scary woman who crawled out of a knitting bag.

A new haircut feels good. Nearly as good as buying yarn…