As I’ve written about before, my relationship with my curls hasn’t always been great. The past few weeks it’s been at its lowest. My stress levels have been through the roof – job applications, visa struggles, money woes, all part of being an adult. But the stress has taken its toll. My skin has been lack-luster, my energy low despite cycling 3 days per week and going to the gym, and I’ve been drawn to even more junk food. Most of all, my hair has been terrible.
My routine has, for the past couple of years, been one that lacks shampoo and loads up on conditioning – leave-in and wash out. The past few weeks nothing seemed to work. It felt like straw, was dull and very dry. I was at my wits end. Every time I caught my reflection I felt that pang of …shame, really. Not at my hair, but at myself. That I didn’t look the way I felt I wanted to present myself.
Then I went to Unruly Curls.
Oh. My God.
I’ve tried a few hair salons, most of which have been decent but never left me feeling totally happy. I’ve surruptitously squirted more product into my hair when the stylist was gone, or once home, put it in a braid – sometimes rewash and style it completely. Unless it was blowdried straight, I was almost never happy. This was the first time, in almost ever, that I left the salon feeling beautiful. It was more than a haircut.
Emma, my stylist, told me what to do to get my shine and body back, and most of all my curls. And while I was in shock over the volume for the first few minutes, once outside, the joy took hold.
My hair has always been important to me. I think particularly for us curly girls, when it’s something we are taunted and teased for, it’s a very fraught relationship we have with our locks. So many salon trips leave us saddened, when stylists exclaim “there’s so much of it!”, when you spend too much money on products that don’t work and end up sitting in a cupboard until you have the heart to throw them out, when when when… the list goes on.
At Unruly Curls, I was recommended products I could afford, and ones that they used, and worked. I finally felt like I was wearing my hair, not that my hair was wearing me. That’s a lot for one haircut to give, but boy did this one do it. So, the moral of the story, curly girls can be princess – sometimes fairy godmother’s come in lots of shapes and sizes. Mine is Emma, from Unruly Curls.