There are few things more humiliating than showing your hairdresser a photograph you found on Pinterest. Pulling up the board titled āHair Inspoā, most likely filled with photos of Suki Waterhouse or someone with a similar effortless ācool girlā presence, knowing full well you look nothing like the 5 foot 10 inches singer. I find myself in this position more often than Iād be willing to admit. Sat in front of free-standing mirror in some alternative hair salon Iāve found in Shoreditch that strikes the right balance between good reviews and not putting me into my overdraft for the second time in a week.
One of the most telling signs of which decade a photograph was taken in is by the hair featured in it. Like the Millennial arrow or the Gen-Z angel numbers, there are certain markers by which one can distinguish whether a picture is pre or post financial crisis. The striped highlights vs. the more subtle balayage. The side fringe vs. the curtain bangs. All evolutions of each other, and at the time, all seemingly the best hairstyle anyone has EVER come up with. With the advent of social media, these trends are concerningly coming and going more frequently than ever; at a rate that my bank account nor the condition of my hair can keep up with.
The first time I bowed to a hair trend was in 2016. Ombre was all the range, particularly pastel ombre to match the latest collection of Stabillo highlighters. I arrived at the salon, this time armed with a picture of Perrie from Little Mix, to have what would be the first of many rounds of peroxide painted on to my hair. I left crying. I looked like a zebra. After wearing a bobble hat for the rest of the mid-August week, I went back to the salon and had it dyed over. Despite all efforts, I had not become the 5thĀ member of the best thing to come out of the X-Factor (other than Leona Lewisā rendition of āBleeding Loveā of course).
Unfortunately, this experience hasnāt put me off jumping on the bandwagon for future hair trends. Now, I just go to more expensive salons, waiting longer between appointments to save up for it, and provide a larger yet more refined collection of reference pictures. To avoid any ambiguity over which celebrity I expect to leave looking like, I make sure to feature the trim in various lighting and angles. Still, I am endlessly disappointed when I donāt leave looking like a different person, but rather myself in a good wig.
A particularly interesting period in the recent history of hair was during the Covid lockdowns. Like many, I decided that the summer spent at home would be a time ofĀ self-discovery. Like an extended trip to Southeast Asia, except I spent my time watching old episodes of Strictly, learning Italian for a while, and making e-cards whenever a relative had a birthday because my parents still havenāt figured out how to navigate Moonpig. I went into the lockdown aged 15, with virtually virgin hair. I left 16, with two jagged chunks of side-fringe imitating the face framing craze thatād been popular at the time, and a couple of highlights Iād managed to give myself with lemon juice, baking soda, and too much sun-exposure. I also left with an infected stick-and-poke though, so I donāt think I entirely found who I was during those 6 months.Ā
The following winter I tried again. Thanks to the re-emergence of the British television series āSkinsā, I decided that I was going to find myself in Effy Stoneham. āHair Inspo Cā is the name of the board I allocated to pictures of the actress who modelled dark hair in a shoulder length, blunt cut. I was thrilled with the results for a fortnight, the same amount of time it took me to finish the series. Unlike my previous shabby cuts and baby-lights, dying your hair jet black is harder to undo. I think this is often an overlooked risk of doing anything to your hair. I spent 6 months with the Cher-esque do, learning to appreciate the consequences of my actions, and the power that comes with being able to decide how to change your appearance.
Though I still spend ungodly amounts of time scouting for my next ālookā thatās going to obviously completely change how people see me and improve all aspects of my life- including my grades and the fact I havenāt been on a date in two months – I have learnt to leave a bit of time in between generating the Pinterest board and booking the appointment. A month is generally satisfactory. It is long enough for whatever trend you are following to die down, so that you can see if you like the style even when no one else has it. As I am writing this, I am a week into the month-long probation I have allowed myself. It is yet to be decided whether I will or will not entertain the Scandinavian long-bob that is viral this week, only time will tell.