Pain is a Balding Fugly Slut

Sibling rivalry always seems to disperse in times of crisis, and I was head deep in crisis. Having been told that to tighten my weave it would deflate my purse by another £100 (apparently, it needs to be taken out to be re-done…please), I got irritable and just wanted the bloody things OUT. So, my darling older sister, whose patience I’m sure could rival Mother Teresa, steps up to the mark and spends two fucking hours un-stitching the now shabby hair from my still sore head.

At first…we were laughing. I even saw the funny side as she pulls the wefts away from my hidden hair, revealing my natural short layers looking like they’ve been trapped in a crimper overnight and not seen daylight for a year. I was giggling…until I hit the shower. My own hair started coming away in terrifying clumps (that’s right…not strands…CLUMPS) as I lightly pulled my fingers through the tangled mess to give it it’s first proper wash in a month. I pictured in my now scarred mind a scene from a horror movie-the lead girl gets cursed due to her obscene vanity and has that steamy shower moment in which she’s oblivious and then screams at ear piercing levels as her hair literally comes off in her balmy palms. I resembled such a sorrowful siren. Well, less of a siren, more of a hairless harpy. Unfortunately, like clips from a re-occurring nightmare, the horror scene didn’t stop there. Even more fell out as my sister stifled shocked nervous laughter combing my remaining 5 strands through. Okay, maybe that is a slight exaggeration but I really have lost at least 50% of my hair…tragic.

Regrets? Loads. The effort, time, money, hassle, and loss of hair all stimulate my ‘less than impressed’ opinion of hair extensions. I cannot comprehend how girls manage to keep these evil life wreckers in longer than 6 months without going permanently bald. Let’s not forget weave was supposed to have been the best ‘non-damaging hair’ option. Bullshit. Clearly, extensions are a typical example of a ‘Monet’-something which looks fantastic from far away but the closer you get you realise reality isn’t so pretty. Are clumps of human hair disappearing down the shower drain glamorous? Evidently not. Especially when I then have to kiss my doting sister goodbye as she struts out the door swinging her healthy abundance of hair that boils my envious blood. Back to the original question then-are they worth it? Fuck No.

Nicola Louise Watson

14/01/09