If you’re anything like me, these are the words you find yourself practising in front of the bathroom mirror before each and every trip to the hairdresser. Anyone who knows me knows that for the past 6+ years I have kept regular 6-8 week appointments with the same hairdresser because I’m more than a little precious when it comes to my bonce and I don’t let any old Edward Scissorhands run wild. I’ve even flown home so as not to break an appointment. So you might be somewhat surprised to learn that in a bid to try something new and save a few quid in the process I booked an appointment to get my hair cut at a training academy. Not just any old training academy but Vidal Sassoon‘s on Brook Street.
The week got off to an emotional start involving 2 vacuum bags, one suitcase and a feather duvet. Note to those charged with marketing the sale of said vacuum bags: they are NOT the miracle workers you claim! They can only fit so much and no matter how hard the vacuum cleaner sucks the air out my items it will never compress as much as I need them to. Cue a number of hissy fits, a lot of coffee and a door or two slammed shut in frustration. I know, I’m an arse but I don’t do well travelling light and when it comes to moving your life across the sea it’s very difficult condensing 30 years worth of crap into a 23kg baggage allowance!