I have this urge again lately; I’m desperately in need of change which manifests itself in dying my hair or a haircut… When I was a teenager it was much easier, I would dye my hair any colour I liked. It has been bright green, it has been blue and all sorts of different colours and shades. I had purple dreads about five years ago. I used to be a bit of a rebel to be honest and when I was a teenager I had words with my mum about this on several occasions.
Nowadays, although I still feel like dying it again, I wouldn’t do anything drastic anymore, although that could be considered as a personal opinion. What might be drastic to you doesn’t necessarily need to be drastic to me. My dreads were not drastic to me but to some people they were, I’ve been asked so many questions about my hair and when I decided to cut them [just did, out of the blue] I heard so many -totally different- remarks, a lot of people thought it was a shame, to me it was convenient; I assumed dreads wouldn’t be high maintenance; boy was I wrong!
I found myself gazing at all the ‘colourants’ by L’Oreal, Clairol, Garnier and Schwartzkopf just to get a general impression but couldn’t find anything nice, striking, it all seems so ‘normal’ to me, nothing fancy, nothing daring. So I reckon if it wouldn’t be ‘solved’ with dye, it might be solved with a simple haircut… Every four years I would cut it short again but up until now I still haven’t cut it short and it’s about 68cm long from the top of my head. I just noticed I had the same urge in January last year [it was then 55cm]. I reckon it must be the time of the year. Perhaps because nature is showing signs of spring already.
Springtime is seen as a time of growth, renewal, of new life (both plant and animal) being born, and of the cycle of life once again starting. Perhaps that’s why I feel this urge for change. So what is keeping me? Well… there is always doubt and each time when I cut it short I promised myself to never have it cut again. I would look at myself in the mirror, realising that with each move of the hairdresser’s hands I could feel the weight of my hair becoming less. And I would slowly start to get that panicky feeling; ‘did I do the right thing?!!’
But once cut, there’s no turning back and I would have to wait another three years before it would be of a decent length again. I’m not sure yet if I could be strong enough and not let that panicky feeling make me run away from the hairdresser’s. I guess since I’m still in doubt I’d better wait till after the wedding in June, I might have changed my mind in the meantime… *I seem to be able to really annoy myself at times!*

My Rock-a-billy-Blond/Purple Phase [with ferret in matching colour]

My First-Time-Dreads Phase [young but not innocent]

My Cover-Up-The-Grey Phase [what grey hairs?]

My I-Might-As-Well-Have-Dreads Phase [since I decided to cut it anyway, yes real ones]

My Model Phase [need to model better not touch it]