The Hairdressers
Monday, December 15th, 2008Unfortunately, I do not have any photo's of myself from the time
The hairdressers is something I used to dread. In-fact, I just did not go at all. My long untidy hair earned me the nickname of ‘Happy Hippy Hanlon’. The happy part was a sarcastic comment about my generally miserable demeanour at the time. Eventually a friend I made in the last year of school gave me an exceptionally stylish 90s undercut. This probably only slightly improved the situation, but I was grateful at the time. A year or so later my sister had a go which had better results I seem to remember.
While many fear the dentist, hairdressers seems to be a more common fears for people with social anxiety. Having your mouth stretched open with a mirror stuck in it seems much more preferable than having to make polite small talk while someone holds sharp pointy things to your head. Today, I do not mind either and shall be off to my Italian friend for a slightly overdue trim later, but I know that for many, deciding whether or not to go to the hairdressers remains an uncomfortable dilemma.
