Another day, another hair stylist.
After the trauma of becoming Scandinavian (see previous post The Accidental Blonde), I had actually been back to the same girl for a second attempt. Apparently I’m a glutton for punishment.
So today, with a referral, I went to see Andrew. He broke the news to me that my hair had been bleached and it was going to take some time to get it back to where it should be, my lovely barely-there dark blonde. It wasn’t going to happen in a day but it would happen. After my initial horror, he went to work.
Two hours later having started the tedious process of repair and after cutting a good inch or so off the bottom, I was done.
No trauma, not Scandinavian and happy. I’ll be going back and if anyone needs a hair stylist in Marylebone, he’s your man.