NAMES HAIR DYES SHOULD NOT BE CALLED
- Labrador (golden blonde)
- Scampi sunset (rich gold)
- Beaver (dirty brown)
- Fudgepot (nutty brown)
- Crispy pancake (warm copper)
Well it isn't actually orange, its called rich copper gold and its really nice. So I buy it (two boxes, don't want it to be patchy) and take it home to do.
As I say I'm not an experienced dyer of hair so I make sure I read the instructions properly (I skim read them paying more attention to the pictures than the words) and get on with it.
After mixing the bottles together I shut myself in the bathroom and start squirting the mixture onto my hair.
OH SWEET JESUS ITS FLUORESCENT ORANGE.
Its too late to stop now, I have to keep going. To add insult to injury, I can barely breath something is burning my throat and my eyes, as I open the bathroom window and gulp in lungfuls of air I decide I have a new found respect for hairdressers. So on I go squirting and then rubbing it in. Its burning my hands a bit and they've gone a funny orange colour, you think they'd provide you with gloves. (Yes. I know now that they do. I saw the little plastic packets but just didn't open them. Having hands that resemble chicken tikka for 3 days has taught me a valuable lesson about reading instructions).
I decide to read the instructions regarding the timing as I've been caught out with an oven ready chicken before. Right. I need to give it 30 minutes. Well that's no bloody help.........
30 MINUTES FROM WHEN?
- From when I started applying the dye
- From when I finished applying the dye - in which case - because of the burning chicken tikka hand incident - one part of my hair will have been on 40 minutes and the other half 30 minutes. I will have a two tone head.
- From when I finished reading the instructions.
I sit down and wait for the 30 minutes to pass. A few minutes before its due to come off I chance a little peak under the foil and am horrified to discover my hair appears to be a weird peach colour. I'm about to rush into the bathroom and wash it off when i decide that the final 2 minutes might be the time that the colour fully develops, in the manner of a swan. My hair is currently the 'ugly/peach duckling' and will soon be the 'beautiful/bronze swan'. The fumes have clearly got to me as while I've been rambling on about swans the dye has been on for nearly 40 minutes.
I head to the bathroom and remove the foil. The peach foam is still present, it hasn't as I'd anticipated transformed into a rich bronze. I dig the instructions out of the bin and check what I'm supposed to do at this point. (Note to self: never, ever be such a bloody halfwit again, and should one decide to dye ones hair again lose the cocky attitude and read the instructions PROPERLY)
So it would seem that I need to rinse off the dye, wash my hair, and then apply the miracle conditioner that will lock in the colour until the next millennium.
I do all of the above, pluck up my courage and then look in the mirror.
It's really quite nice. In fact it's lovely. I decide however the thing to do is dry and style it and then make a decision.
Okay. So here we are. Hair dried and styled and it looks nice. It really is a warm bronze gold. I'm quite chuffed and inwardly laugh at those idiots who have previously dyed their hair demented colours at home. I'm actually smug (like Davina)
I get up for work the following morning, shower, wash my hair, re-use the magical conditioner and do my hair.....Not only do I have amazing ringlets I now have the loveliest rich copper blonde hair.
I drive to work admiring my hair in the mirror all the way. I inadvertently knock over 2 pensioners, a lollipop lady and a fox (not the animal just a sexy girl) on the way, I should probably go back and assist them but I'm completely mesmerised my by stunning hair, so I don't bother.
I arrive at work, park up and head into the office, flipping my rich ringlets as I go. I walk towards my team and they look at me. I may be wrong but I think I see a combination of admiration and desire in their eyes.
I toss my head around a bit more. I am utterly fabulous. Admired by many. In fact my hair is clearly reminding people of Cheryl Cole.
Then I notice my team are all humming/singing under their breath. I'm completely thrilled, my teams morale is clearly through the roof. I sit down and notice the humming/singing is getting louder
Even at this point I haven't clicked as to what they're doing. I'm still convinced they're just happy at their work, so I wander around them saying good morning.
Me: Hi Dan, how's things, good weekend?
Dan: Yes, I spent it at the fairground
Me: Morning Dorothy, you OK.
Dorothy: Yes, I was just talking about my new eye cream. I suppose I'm just holding back the years.....
I STILL HAVEN'T CLICKED.
Me: Hiya Tone, how's it going
Tony: Good! We were just talking to Michael, he was telling us he had a new flame.
At this point I'm still cheerfully tossing my newly dyed hair around when it suddenly falls into place.
THEY'RE IMPLYING I LOOK LIKE MICK HUCKNALL.
I rush to the toilet and look in the mirror.
Oh Sweet Jesus I do.
Roll on pay day when I can afford to get it coloured properly.
MONEY'S TOO TIGHT TO MENTION.........