Born To Dye

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Lana Del Rey puns. Yeah, baby.

Tonight I dyed my hair for the first time ever. Okay, not ever. There was that one time when I dyed it black to rebel. (My mum didn’t care, so I didn’t do it again.) This is the only serious time, when it’s actually been in the interest of making me look nice ‘n’ stuff.

With the help of my trusted hairdresser (read: complete novice), Louise Jones, today was the day: the day for change. I decided I wanted to change things up in the hair department, ruling out legs, bums and armpits and going for the classic head hair. About two years after the rest of the world, I opted to get on board with the ombre trend.

Instructions, you say:

  • You put the lime in the coconut and mix them both up.
  • Dab and scrunch.
  • Find an astonishing number of sexual innuendos regarding the hair dying process (e.g. “this is gonna make you wet”, “bend over” – standard immaturity).
  • Grab a friend, get in a shower and wash your sillies out.
  • Rinse and repeat.
  • Take selfies.

Yes, you now have stunning ombre hair, you stunner. Wow. I am blown away. Twirl. Walk with a jaunt. That’s it. Now you’re ready to be unleashed. You must now immediately take up all opportunities to socialise so as to maximise utility.

The ombre is not the ombre without the obligatory root to tip comparison. Yeah, grab the ends of your hair and put it over your face like a fringe. Crazy stuff. It’ll bring back all the memories of yesterday’s hair. Like, remember when it was the same colour all the way down? Good times. But it’s more exciting now – this was a good decision.

And that’s ombre, folks! I’ve been Jessica Eve Kennedy, and you’ve been dyed.

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2 Comments

  1. It looks so good! Now I want to try it on my hair!

    Reply

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