Hair matters. Went to a perfectly good hairdresser here in London and I let myself be talked into red. The first time I saw the colorist she had black hair, the second she had a reddish blonde. This ought to have been the first tip-off. But no, I wanted a change to go along with new flat, new job and new city. Since I believe in good hairdressers over shrinks, off I bounced and emerged looking like Vivienne Westwood and then faded to Raggedy Ann. It took four hours at London's best hair colorist, Jo Hansford, to turn me back to a lovely chestnut brown.
So lesson learned: there's no point pretending to be a redhead if you're not. Unless of course you're Christina Hedricks from Mad Men and can actually get away with it!
I'm choosing hair over clothing this year.
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