Bad hair days

Have you noticed how people with fine, straight hair always long for thick, preferably curly hair, and vice versa? That's the way of the world, I'm afraid, always thinking that having something else will make us happy. I'm of the fine, straight variety, which could be almost acceptable except for the two cow-licks - one from the centre of the forehead hairline towards the right and a corresponding one at the back in the nape of the neck, turning upwards. This means that one side sits smoothly and curled under, while the other side loops up in front, defying all attempts at a fringe, and curls outwards at the back.

No neat bob for me - I have to use a hairdryer if I want to coax the errant locks back into place - and anyone who sees me regularly will know that that seldom happens - I am more of the wash, quick comb and that's it kind of person. I generally look as though I have been pulled through a hedge backwards, as I never put comb to coif after the initial early morning run-through. It must be my aversion to mirrors.

The weather also plays a large part in the appearance of my hair - in a southeaster it is totally electric and cannot be combed at all, as it then lies flat on my head, giving the impression of a small head on a large body (not really an impression - a fact!). I am a hairdresser's worst nightmare. No matter how much they mousse, gel or blow-dry, within 5 minutes it's all hanging limply. When perms were fashionable, I had exactly what I wanted - soft curls and a head in proportion to my body, but they just won't do them anymore - I think it's damaging to the reputation or some such thing.

When travelling in Europe, where the water is different to ours, my hair takes on a whole new life - full (or as near as it can be!) and with body. Perhaps a move to Venice is called for? Now there's an idea...