I turned 59 at the weekend. One year to go until I hit the Big 60 – bring it on! Actually I almost wish I were sixty this year; whether it is 39, 49 or 59, it’s a year of waiting for a milestone birthday, the one with the nought on the end, the one that gets royally celebrated.
My next nought heralds concessionary rates at the cinema, free prescriptions (and believe me when I say that’s worth a bob or two) and cheaper public transport – and I’m not being ironic when I say that I can’t wait! Paradoxically I am too young for my state pension, free bus pass and winter fuel allowance as the government – in their wisdom – whipped those benefits away from my age group when they raised the retirement age for women [see Working ‘Til We Drop…]! That said, I have embarked on Operation Sixty – my plan to get fitter, healthier and feel better about myself before the big day. Turning sixty is inevitable but I plan to own it!
Unfortunately Mother Nature did her best to spoil the day and I spent this particular birthday stranded a top a Spanish mountain (www.notesfromgaucin.com) in a storm – celebrations cancelled – watching as the roads turn to rivers, thunder so close it makes the doors shake. But despite the birthday washout, in a week where I learnt of a good friend’s bad news I have so much to be thankful for.
I did something today that I have never done before – I went back to my hairdresser to complain about a recent haircut!
I’m sure most of us have left the hairdressers fighting back the tears at some point in our lives. I know I have, and more than once!
So, I booked a long overdue appointment with my hairdresser of over ten years and told her that I wanted my usual cut, a shoulder length blunt bob. I came away with a chin lengthpudding basin!
Our hair is one of our most important features and the majority of women would agree that finding a hairdresser who actually listens to you is one of life’s great challenges. When we do find someone we trust with our precious locks we stick with them even if they move salons. I like my hairdresser, as I said I’ve been with her quite a while and she understands that my hairline at the back grows up rather than down, and that my left side never behaves as it should. Maybe she was having a bad day but this recent cut was at least two inches shorter than I asked for – and that is being extremely generous – so when I went back today I calmly explained why I wasn’t happy with the cut.
Okay, so complaining won’t make my hair suddenly grow the missing two inches overnight but it did give her the opportunity to tweak my cut to make it less pudding basin and a little more funky.
And I feel better about myself knowing that instead of voting with my feet and beginning the search for a new hairdresser, I’ve spoken out and I’m pretty certain that the next time I ask for a shoulder length bob, that is exactly what I’ll get.