Festival of Fringe

Of late, I have been sporting a fringe. Straight down, straight across, and hanging anywhere from just above my eyebrows to poking me in the eye, depending on whether I'd trimmed it lately.

"I'd trimmed it." These are the fateful words which trigger our sad tale. Being a penny-pincher right now, I refuse to go to a hairdresser just to pay them to make three broad snips along my eyebrows. I have been trimming my own fringe, and most of the time, doing an ok job. But once, just once, my hairdressing skills clearly absented me. It was a dark day on which I decided to employ creativity into my shearing routine.

I'd been feeling bored with my hair. I'd been feeling confident about my snipping skills. I'd been watching far too many back episodes of 'Love My Way'. And so, when I picked up the scissors, I was certain I had the skills to emulate Claudia Karvan's fringe.

I did not.

Do you know how difficult it is to swallow your pride, call around hairdressers, explain your 'fringe emergency', and hope they can fix it for a reasonable budget price? It's not easy, I can assure you. I was so glad I went to Nick's hairdresser. There a lovely European lady reassured me that everyone cuts their own hair at some point in their lives (sure, but they're normally about five years old), and that I actually hadn't done too bad a job of it. She talked me through all my (two) options, advised what she thought was the best, and patiently snipped away, explaining all the time what she was doing and why.

When she stepped back (after a free blow dry!), I was amazed. My mission had been achieved. I had a choppy asymmetrical fringe, and wispy layers around my face. Sadly, I hadn't become a gorgeous, respected actress (a la Claudia) or a kooky, damaged yet talented artist ( a la Frankie, Claudia's LMW character), but I did have some very funky hair which I REALLY liked.

And all it cost me was $33, a night of panic, and a chunk of self-respect.