Hair today, gone tomorrow

[Warning label: Bimbo post ahead. Not to be ingested before breakfast.]

Since my last haircut at The Lab in Desa Sri Hartamas some 8 months ago (yes, shock, shock, horror... it's been THAT long), I've had the nicest layers in like forever! And I swear my new hairdressing guru, Eric, at The Lab* has a hairy thumb (as opposed to a green thumb) because he worked magic on my incredibly hard to tame hair.

See, most hairdressers cheat - by trying to straighten my hair with a ceramic iron thus making me feel Zhang Ziyi - gorgeouslicious for a day. Just ONE day! My hair with a mind of its own never fails to kink back into it's messy waviness the next day.

But Eric managed to pass all knots and kinks and hairy challenges thrown at him, and emerged victorious. I measure how successful a haircut is by how many guys notice it and how many guys (and girls) make a pass at me (this does not include the guy cleaning tables at the Kopitiam, random Spanish workmen outside my flat and the occasional black/arab/migrant worker who cat call at any passing woman under the age of 25) and Eric's work of art sure turned on alot of charms.

And just yesterday, a fat oaf by the name of Paul (who, to be fair, was under the pressure of sitting for an exam where I was to be the exam piece) at the Vidal Sassoon School of Hairdressing undid all of Eric's good, hard work.

I went from this to this:














Btw, I'm not posing in the picture on the left. That was me trying to get a good idea of how messy my hair really is. If you zoom in you'll see the dark eyebags and frown lines from the past 3 weeks of exam-related stress - and yet everyone's been messaging me on msn to tell me how nice my pic is. Exams are great beauty boosters. And yes, I am pouting on the right. I pout a lot. Lionel's learnt to put on an 'ignore-her' mechanism when I do that. Or else he pinches my cheeks and pats me on the head.

Anyway... back to the point. I don't even LOOK like I've had a haircut. All I got were my nice soft layers hacked and butchered. You should see the back of my head. I think Lu said he could have cut my hair (for free!). I don't know how I never thought of asking for a mirror to see the back of my head at Vidal. You just want to get out of there as soon as possible, especially when a Shrek-sized Ah Beng (with a blond dyed job, nonetheless) is wielding a scissors at your hair.

I guess after camwhoring a bit, (just a bit), I've gotten slightly used to the idea of looking like my teenage sister. All you psychotic paedophiles who've been oogling at her Friendster photos (i.e. YOU, cl) get a life. Or get hurt. She's got a black belt in Taekwondo.

* The Lab was reviewed by Kennysia. I would tag along and recommend it fervantly!