The Weird Embarrassment of Middle Age
I used to see my time at the hairdressers as a lovely little ‘me-time’ treat. But as I plunge headfirst into my mid-forties, I’ve started to hate going.
The reasons for this are many and varied. One: my roots have streaks of grey in them, so going to the hairdressers is no longer just about enjoying being blonde. It’s become a functional necessity.