Some of you may remember my quest to get back to my natural hair colour before I turn 30…next month. I went shopping yesterday, something I don’t do very often. My roots/fake colour in a full-length mirror was a scary sight to behold. My nick-name lately has been Two-Tone Tessie. On the way home, I bought some magic in a box. I used it this morning to ‘blend my roots’. They blended quite nicely as I watched Judge Judy for…
I am a natural blonde. No, really. I have proof: It got lighter in the summer and darkened in the winter. By the time I was eight it no longer changed with the seasons, no matter how much lemon juice my Nana squeezed on my head. Maybe that’s why I felt such infinity with fish as a child. My favourite doll was a redheaded kilt-wearing thing of beauty from the ‘International Collection’. I wanted her hair. When…
