Just over a year ago, I blogged about my relationship with my hair and local stylists. This is sort-of like that but with a Halloween twist. In Spring. In a country that doesn’t celebrate Halloween.
My friend L. was over today. We sat around drinking coffee solving most of the world’s greatest ontological riddles… you know, the really big existential ones like, “Why am I here?” and “Who am I really?”
In so doing, we decided there are two things we absolutely must go home to the States for: shopping and haircuts.
L. is 40 this year and finds herself fit, smart, tanned, with a good job and title… and strolling the streets of luxurious Lugano with a bi-level haircut reminiscent of the 1980s.
The woman (a different woman from the creative colorist) also refused to cut the top shorter so the back had more movement and the front wasn’t in my eyes all the time. She actually said no when I asked her!
I think I’ll trim the very front myself and I won’t even have to pay hundreds of dollars for it! This is definitely one of those Expat Adventure things…