August 02, 2004


I guess it seems like a d'oh moment now, but I have grown so spoiled by competent and downright talented hair stylists that I was niave enough to think that I could get a cut and color in Africa.

I didn't just walk into any ol' place. I scouted out a nice salon in a really good neighborhood. I went in, asked a few questions, showed him some pictures, felt the stylist out, and felt reasonably good about the situation going into it. Who would have guessed he would turn my hair PINK!

Now, I like pink. A lot. I like to wear pink. A lot. I don't like to BE PINK!!!

Jim fails to understand the fashion crisis this causes as a girl with pink hair cannot wear pink clothes, especially tops. And I think at last count 80% of the 4 shirts I have with me on this trip are pink. Not to mention every bathing suit.Or orange - which also doesn't look good with pink hair. Unless you really want to look like Rainbow Brite.

Needless to say, I've downed a few glasses of wine since the Disast-HAIR and I am accepting that I will have pink hair for awhile. And why not? When else am I going to have pink hair? Probably never (at least I hope).

Below please find photographic evidence that the above story is not wraught with hyperbole or exaggeration. Pink is pink is pink:

Comments: Post a Comment

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?