Clean(er) hair in a can
LIVING PROOF PERFECT HAIR DAY DRY SHAMPOO, £10
When you can (or used to be able to, pre-pandemic) confidently stand on the tube with your head squashed beneath the nose of a tallish business woman squashed in the armpit of an on-their-way-home-from-football-player, you can talk to me about your dry shampoo. Until then, you need to hear about mine.
This week of babydom was a particularly tough one; As they are prone to do, Monday turned into tuesday, wednesday and suddenly thursday, and as such my hair did not see the opened end of a shampoo bottle once in the whole four days. There is something so catastrophically wearying about washing your hair when you have to look after a little person, (my armpits are lucky they got a derisory once-over). Uh oh, call myself a beauty expert? Well no actually, I call myself a defeated-by-the-week normal new mother with resultory flat roots. OK gross roots. And I can’t find my fucking dry shampoo don’t test me dry shampoo where are you?!
It’s like that joke - where do you find a hamster with no legs? Wherever you left it, ba dum tss. Because it’s so annoyingly good that I tend to carry it to wherever I need it and then I forget where that was. If you were a compact bottle of heavenly smelling, oil and sweat absorbing, non-residue leaving Living Proof Perfect Hair Day (PhD) dry shampoo, where would you be? Of course! At the bottom of the handbag I used last tuesday, thank goodness.
Today my reflection is a bit sad, so I chuck some Charlotte Tilbury Filmstar Bronze & Glow on and voila! I look like I had an OK start to the week actually, decidedly glowy and healthy even - such is the power of makeup and precisely why I love it so. I spray four bursts of the PhD aerosol into my roots, wait thirty seconds and then do a mini-head massage and VOILA! I look like I had a great week. Maybe even one with a blowdry appointment squeezed in, because really this stuff is quite magical. With a brush-through and a quick tong of the front section I am refreshed to death and ready to get on the tube and shove my head under a tallish woman's nose. Oh no, that was old life. I’m ready to spend another day without a moment to wash properly, and actually I feel OK about it!