Breezy girls: they are the ones who move through life attracting the highest calibre of men, wear Chanel to the races and retain their dignity even after a full bottle of Dom Pérignon.
Then there is me.
I could be a breezy girl if it wasn’t for my collected works of embarrassments and social faux pas. For example, the little incident known to the masses as the ‘Toni & Guy classic’
As a faithful Toni & Guy goer I booked in with Nina at my local salon for a cut and blow dry. It was a busy Saturday afternoon. I picked up my copy of Vogue, got in to my plastic overall and was guided over to the basins by a young chap who looked new to the glamorous world of hair washing. Now, by any hairdresser’s standards this one was extremely talkative, in fact I felt it was verging on flirtation. Unfortunately peroxide blonde 18 year old boys are just not for me so I shut my eyes and enjoyed rather a rough hair wash. He chatted away for about 10 minutes while I half listened, hoping it would be over soon.
Then I realised he was saying ‘ermm errr after this can I get you a drink?’
Of course, I immediately responded with ‘Oh thank you but actually I have a boyfriend’
His face aghast he stumbled on: ‘…we have tea, coffee, orange juice, water….’
As you will discover in my coming posts, I am used to such impressive embarrassments. He clearly was not. His face grew redder and redder and in his fluster to remove the remaining conditioner as quickly as possible he caught my hair on the tap pulling out a large chunk.
I laughed loudly while he looked mortified and ummed and arred and errrred until I was saved by my faithful hair transformer.
Surprisingly, I never got my cup of tea!
By Laura Farhall