Good hair day!

If you've come here for cat pictures, I'm afraid I've got to disappoint you! Although Bess, our new fur baby, is coming along by leaps and bounds, she still prefers to dart away to her safe place under the dining room table, where four cat beds in the form of our wicker, Lloyd Loom style, chairs await her. For now, we don't want to upset her by taking photographs. We haven't got any idea of her past, but one thing is sure: at some point she must have lost all faith in humankind. Well, we can't really blame her, can we?

But she's eating like crazy -  and unlike Phoebe, she seems to love everything we put in front of her, and she's licking her bowl clean each and every time - playing ever more daringly and, most importantly, taking cat naps in between observing our comings and goings through her wicker screens.

Instead, you'll have to do with pictures of me, which I do realize all too well are a poor substitute!

My blog has reached the 25th of February by now. The day had been highlighted in my otherwise empty diary as D-Day. Or better: H-Day! Four months after my last haircut - and even longer since my last colouring session - I was finally able to go to the hairdresser's. 

As my hair had grown longer than I'd had it in at least twenty years, I thought perhaps now was the time for a new hairdo. Having had a bob from the second half of the 1980s until the late 1990s, I had it cut short in a moment of madness after we'd just moved to Dove Cottage in the Spring of 1999.

Lately, I'd been missing my bob, and the fact that people raved about my then hairstyle when I posted our 1995 wedding photographs back in February was the incentive I needed. It was with some trepidation, however, that I put my proposal to Michel, my trusty hairdresser of 26 years, so I was overjoyed that it met his approval. My previous hairdo being asymmetrical and fringe-less does mean it will take a while for it to be exactly how we want it, but it's going into the right direction.

Also, it will only look this thick and luxurious when I've just come back from Michel, as there is no way I could ever get it to look like that. So, let's enjoy the moment :-)

Outfit particulars: 

• Blue botanical print dress: Think Twice
• Sparkly mustard cardigan with red trim & blue Western style boots: charity shop
• Blue, gold-tone and diamanté bird brooch & gold-tone tiger's eye pendant: flea market
• Mustard opaques & suede belt shopped on the high street

As I was in Antwerp, I popped in to the office for an hour or two. As I'd already hinted, my workload had increased substantially in the last couple of weeks, and my regular two office days were no longer sufficient to deal with it all. That day, I even took some files home with me.

That still left me with enough time for a nosey around the garden, noting with delight that a second flower bud had opened in the cream speckled hellebore I planted back in Autumn, and that the lonely tête-à-tête daff had been joined by a host of winter aconites (Eranthis hyemalis), which keep popping up all over the garden.

If the temperature had still been a very balmy 17°C on Thursday, it had plummeted to just 10°C by Friday. Nevertheless, it was still gloriously sunny and mild enough to shun the warm woollens which I was hoping against hope to have seen the last of this Winter.

My outfit was built around the skirt - a Think Twice find back in February 2018 - with its symphony of olive, burnt orange, magenta and bright blue flowers. This was joined by yet another € 1 bargain from the same shop, a sparkly blue pussy bow blouse. As I usually do, I secured the bow with one of my scarf clips, this time choosing a cameo one with a burnt orange backdrop.

I wore a dark chocolate brown leather belt - a charity shop find like most of my belts - at my waist.

Burnt orange appeared yet again in my opaques as well as in the plaid vintage jacket which once again came from - you guessed it - Think Twice! My Fly London burgundy ankle boots trimmed with turquoise were a charity shop find in October last year.

Basking in the balmy rays of the sun and enjoying the fact that my almost but not quite bob was still in reasonable shape after a night of tossing and turning as I am wont to do at night.

It was Friday, and time for another trip to the charity shops. We did only visit one, though, as for some reason wearing a mask for a rummage tends to trigger hot flushes!

Pickings weren't too abundant, the rails which were on the last of their winter legs being quite lacklustre, but then my eyes alighted on this stunning velvet trimmed jacket, its lining an iridescent burgundy.

Isn't it magnificent? There's a lot going on in terms of colour and texture. The contents label even mentions 10% metal! The photo on the right is a detail of its back.

What I didn't like, though, were its buttons, which you can see in the photo of the left, next to their teal vintage replacements.

I also found a plain orange thin merino wool jumper (not pictured) and two more necklaces for my burgeoning collection.

Before driving home for lunch, we stopped at a discount outdoor garden centre, where Jos remained in the car while I went a bit wild and loaded my trolley full of goodies.

That afternoon, I - foolishly perhaps- exchanged my two warmest winter coats for lighter ones, and organized the boots which were cluttering the hallway. 

We then deep cleaned the hallway carpet, the rug in front of Jos's wardrobe and the rug on the landing. Then while Jos was returning the car to the garage, I swept and mopped the staircase, which I'm ashamed to admit was a long overdue job.

Saturday's weather initially didn't look very promising. The forecasted morning fog lingered well into the afternoon which, in addition to the 6°C shown on the thermometer, rather put us off the pruning job we'd planned for the day.

We were just about to admit defeat and snuggle up on the couch, when the sun finally succeeded in lifting the gloom by parting the curtain of dull grey clouds. 

We wasted no time in donning gardening apron and gloves, grabbed a pair of secateurs each, and got stuck in. I rigorously pruned back the rampant ivy, the dead wood in the winter jasmine, and the remains of the dry and lacy flower heads, cutting the stems back to the first healthy pair of buds down from the blooms.

Look at that mountain of prunings ready for the council collection the next week!

Before I proceed to show you what I was wearing that day - which I changed out of when gardening - here's a mystery for you. We've got a beast in our garden which seems to love yellow flowers in particular. It has been nibbling any daffodil that's daring enough to rear its head, has been eating holes in some of the winter aconites and reduced our single yellow crocus to tatters. Strangely enough, it doesn't seem to like the purple and purple and white striped crocuses! Now what can it be? 

Now, to my outfit!

Standing in front of my wardrobe that morning, my eyes were roaming the black floral section until they caught sight of this delicious frock.

Perusing my blog, I was horrified to see that it apparently didn't get a single wear last year, its last outing dating from December 2019.

The dress is one of my favourites, though, its print featuring orange, lilac, green and white flowers. It has got a solid black cowl neck and cuffs as well as a wide circle skirt, which I cannot help but twirl whenever I wear it. Needless to say, it was another Think Twice find.

With so many colours to choose from, accessorizing is easy. Still, apart from the matching green opaques and perspex ring, I decided to go slightly against the grain by adding a crochet belt and stag's head brooch in a rusty, reddish brown.

The belt was a post-lockdown I sales bargain and the only retail item apart from my opaques and the eons old textured white metal 1960s style necklace.

I still had all those delicious Spring plants to deal with, but as we'd rather overdone it on Saturday, resulting in sore limbs and backs, we thought we'd enjoy them as they were for now.

This is the sight that greats us when looking out of the kitchen window!

I will be back in a couple of days as usual. Wherever you are, and whatever the weather, do stay safe, sane and sensible, but do not forget to have fun and be fabulous!

The girl with the mousy hair

Although I have been colouring my hair on and off since I was about 17, last week was the first time I had it done at the hairdresser's.















Since I'd last coloured it myself (or rather, have Jos do it) a couple of months ago, I noticed that my hair was behaving badly and didn't look as shiny and healthy as it used to.

My hairdresser, who I've been going to for over 20 years, confirmed that it was becoming dry and brittle and told me it was probably a menopausal thing. Oh, dear! He prescribed some medicated shampoo, which was rather expensive, and although I was sceptical at first, it seems to be slowly doing the trick.

He is using gentle products for colouring, so I wanted to give that a go too. I must say that it was worth it, if alone for having the whole thing, which includes the inevitable mess, taken out of my (or rather, Jos's) hands.

1962

Looking at my ramrod straight hair now, it is hard to believe that I was a curly-haired baby and toddler.

Here I am playing in my grandparents' garden in the summer of 1963.

The year I turned 3, we moved from a small flat to the newly built house where my dad still lives. There was a garden, with a sandpit I loved playing in. This, however, resulted in huge dramas every night, when my mum had to comb the knots out of my hair.

1964

Something had to be done and my mum promptly took me to the city (Antwerp) for my first-ever visit to a hairdresser. Not just any old hairdresser, mind: this one had what looked like merry-go-round horses instead of chairs, which he used for cutting children's hair.

A quick search on the Internet revealed that this hairdresser is still around, still using the same horses after all these years, although I'm sure his salon looked quite a bit different in the 1960s.

In spite of the horses, I didn't like it one bit and I remember bawling my eyes out.

1965

The result was a pixie cut, which was much easier to maintain and which I had until I was about 6.

I was allowed to grow my hair again after that, but if my mum had been dreaming of once again having a curly-haired daughter, she must have been sorely disappointed!

As a teenager, I started to dislike my rather thin, straight hair and especially its mousy colour.

1973

So, when I was 17, I started colouring it (and the bathroom mat in the process) jet black, as I wanted to look like my then heroine, Siouxsie. As I was a punk, lanky and mousy hair was a definite no-no! My parents were none too pleased, though ...

I have no photos of my own from around that time (my dad had starting filming with a Super 8 camera), so you will have to make do with this one which surfaced on Facebook. It was taken in front of one of Antwerp's notorious punk clubs in the very early eighties. I'm sure you'll be able to pick me out straight away!

1986

In the mid eighties, after I had started work, I had it permed (as one did), and went back to my original mousy colour.

This photo was taken at my very first flat by my then boyfriend.

By the end of the decade, thankfully, I was thoroughly bored by the silly perm and grew my hair just long enough to have it cut in a bob reminiscent of 1920s starlet Louise Brooks. It was a popular hairstyle at the time, inspired by Cacharel's Loulou perfume, which was introduced in 1987.

I also decided to colour it again, this time a vibrant auburn. It was my signature style for almost 10 years.

Clockwise from top left: 1990, 1992, 1995 and 1998

In 1999, just after we moved into our house, I had it cut short on a whim. It then gradually got shorter and shorter (don't ask) and I also stopped colouring it.

I cannot look at the majority of the photos taken around that time, and I am certainly not ready to share them. My hair was way too short, my weight had crept up and I looked 10 years older than I do now.

It took hours of browsing through photo-albums to come up with some I am reasonably happy with, They were taken after I had lost weight again - if anything, I was too thin for a while, as unintentionally the weight kept dropping off.

The last photo (bottom right) was taken after - nearing 50 - I'd had an epiphany and started growing and colouring it once again, although this time around it was not just the mousy colour I was keen to hide!

Clockwise from top left: 2007, 2010, 2011 and 2012

Now, enough about me. What about you? Do you have any hair issues or stories?