Around the start of March, I opted for a new haircut. I prefer to have longer hair because I’ve got good hair and because I think it’s a look more reflective of my spirit. Unfortunately, I’ve got a wilful head of hair which meant that some days I might look a million dollars, but there were many more days when I looked untidy and decidedly un-corporate.
I decided to go for a David Beckham type style, which excited my hairdresser no end – he’s been trying to get me to go shorter for yonks. As it happens, it’s a style that suits my hair type, and though it was quite novel for me at first, it was a lot easier to manage. Most importantly perhaps, it went down a treat with my audience.
I went into work the next week and got all sorts of positive comments. The consensus was that I’d become quite handsome overnight. That was the sort of positive affirmation I was after, and I went home chuffed.
A couple of weeks ago, I went back to my hairdresser. Like most gentlemen of my vintage, I’ve now got a few grey hairs. They’re not so easy to spot in my hair – I’m blonde – but I found that overall it made my hair a bit duller in aspect. Used to be I had beautiful hair that everyone would comment on. I took it for granted probably, but suddenly I was missing the soft glow my hair once had. On just this one occasion I decided to get some colour in my hair.
I used to do it much more often. At my most fashionable I’d get blonde highlights put through my hair. Nothing too garish, more subtle and stylish than that. I wasn’t looking to make a statement, but rather complement what I already had. Unlike a lot of blokes, I had no real qualms about that. I grew up in a household in which my mum was a firm advocate for appearance and style. Over the years she had a multitude of different hairstyles and had it coloured more often than not – on top of which she was always beautifully dressed. She wanted that for her children too, especially me, and I remember the very first time I got my hair coloured. I must have been about 14, at the Biba hair salon in the complex at Greensborough.
So anyway I turned up to get my hair coloured for the first time in about ten years. All I wanted was to take the grey hairs in my head and make then a subtle blonde. It was a look that people might overlook at a micro level but would enhance the overall aspect of my hair – less flat, more bright.
I was happy with the outcome, and nobody noticed I had my hair coloured. But then people began to comment on my overall look. Someone said I looked ten years younger. The positive feedback I was receiving before amped up further. Combined with the fact that my enforced diet has made me much fitter, I am in large part a transformed man (outwardly; working on the inward). The positive reception has been huge and gratifying, even if I don’t necessarily see what all the fuss is about – I look in the mirror and see a traditionally handsome man, not the rad dude I was before.