Curly

You may have heard/read me describe myself as Bob Dylan's hair twin.

Since I have, for the last two years, been a devoted fan of my ghd hair straightener, unfortunately my hair has suffered the consequences of 300+ degree heat on an almost daily basis. And that is why, most mornings, I wake up looking like Bob.

My obsession with Bob Dylan goes back a number of years, to a quiz night with Hamilton Swimming Club when Sal and I decided it would be really funny to yell out "Bob Dylan!" as an answer to every "Who am I?" question. Apparently, it wasn't.

My ghd has fairly ruined my formerly lovely locks. I used to blame its declining state on chlorine, but since I haven't been in the water for well over a month now, and especially when you consider that the swimming outing in question was a one-off in over two months, I really doubt that chlorine is the true culprit.

Since my sister's wedding is "looming" (haha, I like how I talk about it more than she does), I thought it best to leave my ghd at home in Hamilton, to give my hair a six-month break. I imagined myself in February, prancing around Melton Estate in my new purple dress with my long, Lauren Conrad-esque hair either floating about behind me or styled neatly into a classy French roll. My mum bought me a pot of "deep" conditioner, which, as a teenager, I applied nightly and slept with my head adorned with glad-wrap. I've begun to use it nightly again, and today is the first day in a week that I've left my hair "out".

It looks awful.

Like Bob Dylan. Only worse.

I'm hoping that it's that awkward "in-between" phase - like the stage in metamorphosis when the beautiful butterfly is hiding in a nasty cocoon. Come February, I will look like Lauren.

As such, if you see me between now and February, please curb your urge to yell offensive hair-related comments in my direction. You'll be sorry when the photos from Louise's wedding appear on here.

Yeah.