January, January… what’s to like about this month? I hope no one’s mad enough to even think about detox-ing. Quite frankly if you are denied booze, mugs of tea, chocolate, toasted cheese sandwiches and sticky toffee pudding during January there is a danger that you may not survive. It is freezing cold, damp and dark, everyone’s broke… do not attempt and make it through this month without any toxins!

My new year’s resolution (apart from to write more web posts, my apologies, it drives me nuts too when I go on favourite websites/ blogs and find there’s nothing new!) was to do something about my neglected hair…

It was so long and so dry and so bleach- and weather-beaten. Plus, the amount of time involved in washing, conditioning and blow drying the mane. No, I decided it really had to go.

I went to my charming hairdresser (if I went there more often, I daresay the hair would not have got so out-of-hand in the first place) with lots of pictures of short, short haircuts. He made me tea, he looked at the photos, he listened intently, then he cut me a cute little bob. If I was sure I wanted short hair, I could have it next time, he told me! Whereas if I deeply regretted the bob, it would only take a few months to grow back down to my shoulders. He is a hair genius, obviously.

The bob is nice, much, much nicer than the bouffant mane. But now I can’t decide… go shorter or stick with the bob? Sometimes, accessorised with coats and leather gloves, I think the bob is a bit terrifyingly grown up. Long hair is hippie-chic, short hair is cool, bobs are… hmmm… just a little bit sensible. No?

Here is the before and after… the after reminding me that I need new make up. My last bottle fell out of the stupid little plastic bag they make you put liquids in at the airport. It smashed on the floor, splattering glass and beige goo everywhere and sending the security guards, not to mention everyone in the queue behind me, into panic-mode. Clinique attack! Everybody down!