1986…a bad year for hair…

Dear Younger self,

It’s me, well, you actually – the older, wiser and more mature you. The year is 2013 and I thought I’d write you a letter crammed full of unwelcome and unsolicited advice to help get you through your teenage years. Just think of me as the annoying parent you will become.

Firstly, lay off the hairspray. I know that the eighties was a decade of notoriously bad hair, and life’s priority was being fashionable and cool, but the use of all those hydro propellants and CFC’s probably caused the depletion of the ozone layer. It also made you highly flammable and it was only pure luck that you weren’t set on fire as you puffed away on numerous cigarettes in the girl’s toilets at school.

Likewise, back away from the makeup. Tandoori is not a skin tone that compliments you in any way. The objective is to match your skin tone, not defy it. Also, do not run your eyeliner around the inside of your lower lashes because it makes you look like Ozzy Osbourne on a bad day.

You are not Kate Moss – but then again, neither is 99.9% of the female population. Starving yourself so that your hip bones become lethal weapons will not make you attractive to boys. It will just make you hungry, miserable, and ill.

Don’t give your parents a hard time – they love you more than anything in the world. You won’t have them forever. There will come a day when you have to say goodbye. Love them and appreciate them every day. They mean well.

Don’t use a tissue that you’ve snotted in when you run out of loo paper. It’s better to drip dry than to explain to your doctor how you contracted pneumonia of the urinary tract and vagina.

On the same tangent, if you do have to use tissues instead of toilet paper, only use either plain ones or those impregnated with aloe vera. Do not, I repeat DO NOT, use the ones impregnated with eucalyptus oil. They are wonderful for clearing your sinuses, but will irritate your hoo-haa , leaving you unable to sit still for several hours and your girly bits smelling like the Australian outback.

The song ‘Take my breath away’, by ‘Berlin’, from the ‘Top Gun’ soundtrack is great. But do not, under any circumstances, attempt to copy her hair colour. She had professional hair stylists to dye the bottom two inches of her platinum blonde hair jet black. Your attempt was woeful and nearly caused your mother to develop a nervous twitch. A humiliating visit to her hairdresser followed, where you had to explain what the hell you were thinking. Don’t go there.

On your sixteenth birthday, when you and Cathie decide to wag school and treat yourselves to a lunch in the city that includes two jugs of beer, don’t give her a Violet Crumble prior to the train trip home. Even though it will be the most pleasant tasting vomit she’s ever had, the ground will not open up and swallow you both, no matter how hard you wish for it.

But if I could say anything to you, it would be this:

You are on the right track. Not fitting in at school isn’t such a big deal, because no one really fits in at high school. Everyone is struggling with the same issues you are; you have more in common with each other than you think . After school your world will open up and be filled with new people and experiences and you will blossom into the person you’ve always wanted to be, (but no, you won’t marry John Taylor from Duran Duran). Believe in yourself, don’t be afraid or let fear be the reason you don’t do things. Listen to your gut instinct. It’s always right. Great things are in your future but don’t be in a hurry to get there, learn to enjoy every moment, because each one is so precious.

Love,
Me. xx

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3 thoughts on “1986…a bad year for hair…

  1. Alli says:

    Fabulous! Thanks for the laughs and I adored your last paragraph – absolutely perfect!

  2. giggle giggle, love it!

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