HEALTH AND BEAUTY
HAIR H AT 58 Deri Robins books her wonky lockdown fringe and home-dye into Hair at 58, and requests a minor miracle 76 I BRISTOL LIFE I www.mediaclash.co.uk
onestly; I don’t know how the nation’s hairdressers have managed to keep a straight face. As soon as they reopened, in we all trooped with the fright wigs from hell; what a sight we must have looked, with our home-dye disasters, and fringes more uneven than the Government’s lockdown guidelines. I think I had better-looking hair when I was on chemo. Iron grey roots blending into a frizz that was partly red and partly brown – we’re not taking balayage here, or an artful bit of ombré; just big chunks of hair I’d missed when slapping on a cheapo kit from Boots. Maybe it was because I knew my hair couldn’t possibly look any worse, maybe it was post-lockdown bravado; either way, I rocked up to Hair at 58 in the mood for a change. I had a look in mind that I’d seen on a Spanish actress: short thick bangs, a bluntish off-the-shoulder length. It was cool and edgy, but not so far away from a classic French bob that it would look silly on someone my age. Let me say at this point that I might never have drummed up the courage to try this look at all if my hairdresser hadn’t been Sam Bell. I knew she’d immediately understand what I wanted, and would tell me honestly if it wouldn’t suit me. And it was fun, being able to hand her a creative challenge for a change; after all, saying “just a trim” to a stylist of Sam’s calibre is like asking Josh Eggleton to cook you a bit of toast; you’d undoubtedly get the best toast or trim in town, but you really wouldn’t be making the most of their unique skills and talents.
