August 26. Day 239. Hair raising

"Life is an endless struggle full of frustrations and challenges, but eventually you find a hair stylist you like. " I don't know who said this but it is totally true. Your hair itself may just be a collection of dead cells but it says so, so much about you.
Most of the time I think my hair says neglect. At least I will never be accused by a hair stylist of killing my hair by the overuse of product, or straightening irons or curling wands. Some days I'm flat out finding a hairbrush.
As long as cheap supermarket shampoo and conditioner, a towel and a 20 second blast with a hairdryer isn't found to be death to hair I should be okay.
I'd really love locks that fly in the wind  like those belonging to these girls on the Cha, Cha, Cha at the Bulimba Festival today. Nothing says carefree like that.
But the truth is it's no going to happen and here's why:
1) I'm lazy and long hair takes work.
2) Long hair totally doesn't suit me no matter how much I might like to think it would
3) While there are many notable exceptions, I think shorter hair is generally more flattering once women reach a certain age. I reached that age when I was 15.
4) Even when I find a stylist that I like, he/she seems to have an obsession with taking off as much as humanly possible. Perhaps it is so they feel like you are getting your money's worth. Perhaps it's because you will have to come back more often. Whatever the reason, there seems to be no such thing as a bit of a trim. I'm not sure what the reason is. The answer, like the hair, may be blowing in the wind.
And anyway, there can be no better way to let your hair down than a day at a festival with family and friends. Don't believe me? A second hairy, scary shot from the festival appears below. It has nothing to do with today's post but on reflection I decided I like it. So two for the price of one.