Lost in Translation

For all my hype about Halloween I forgot that I’m one lazy Susan.

Instead of painting the town red in Dracula Spectacular makeup and madness, I followed Scarlett Johansson’s lead in ‘Lost in Translation’ and wore a pink wig.

It would have been so much more fun to dress up like Bill Murray. Next year perhaps.

Donning the blushing bob has inspired me to visit the hairdresser today and chop off my hair.

When i was younger i was jealous of girls with straight glossy hair. It would shimmer and glide over shoulders or be swept up in high ponytails with ease and grace. I had a frizzy, mousey mop of tangled curls.

I was oblivious to hair products except when used in toxic amounts by Boy Band members.

I eventually tamed the frizz was tamed, a few years after I took a punt and dyed it red. Oh happy day.

I want an avant garde hair style, like in the Kaaz Yearbook. I want something completely unattainable unless maintained by an army of professional hair stylists, enough hairspray to crave another hole in the ozone layer and a blowtorch. Or at the very least an industrial strength hairdryer.

But ruled by reason and a lazy streak, I settled with a bob, Molly Ringwald style.

Now i just need to learn the lipstick trick.