Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder!

group of orangutan
Photo by Aldo Picaso on Pexels.com

The kitchen timer shows 14 minutes to go …

Actually 13 now because I’ve been pondering about a title, but hopefully that will come …

I am dyeing my hair. I’m what a nice, kind person would call a strawberry blonde and my husband calls ginger.

In fact he calls me an Orangutan because I apparently have hairy arms and sleep with them behind my head with my knees up. Marvellous. Some things one can do nothing about, some however, you can.

We were on the tube the other day and I pointed out a rather beautiful girl with the most heavenly deep red hair. My sister’s was like that as a child and I’ve always thought it was gorgeous.

“Isn’t she stunning!” I whispered to him nodding in her direction. He glanced briefly up from his paper, looking over his glasses.

“Nobody can say that a ginga is stunning.” He replied bluntly and carried on with his reading. He does tend to call a spade a spade.

At this point I walloped him with my copy of The Evening Standard. His eyes widened and he looked baffled.

“What?” He yelped. I’m only saying the truth.”

“Pah!” I snort as frankly I could think of absolutely nothing to retort back to my gingerist husband. But it made me think … if he thinks I’m an orangutan and therefore a bit of a ginga, maybe it’s time for a wee change.

The smell of what I imagine is ammonia is hideous … every now and then wafts of it dart up my nostrils making my eyes water and my head jerk back. So now I not only smell pretty grim, but also have tears down my cheeks and am twitching. Rabid dog springs to mind. I’ll let you know if I start foaming at the mouth.

Thin plastic gloves falling off, leaning over the bath, water everywhere, ammonia making my eyes now stream, … I wonder if this gets into my eyebrows then I’ll match …

20 Minutes Later …

I walk into the kitchen where the Colonel is sitting. I think he can smell me before he sees me. Clearly ammonia lingers.

He sees me, sits up rather straight and slowly a long smile fills his face. Oh yes! Result!

It’s now a lopsided grin … Game, set and match to me! I feel fabulous! Claudia Schiffer eat your heart out!

He now looks slightly demented and is getting a tad overexcited. Calm yourself sir! Where’s the damn Evening Standard when you need one? I think he needs a good wallop or … something like that … But golly, there are children in the house and anyway that darn ammonia has given me a headache! It’s not often I hear him say, “Pah!” He scoops me up, ice blonde hair and all, and giggling we fall up the stairs …

Katie x

Have you ever changed your appearance radically?? How did it make you feel?

20 thoughts on “Beauty Is In The Eye Of The Beholder!”

    1. Ha!! A few years ago I went into a MAC makeup place in Oxford and let them loose on me (I love a free makeover). In the lovely soft and warm lighting of the shop, I was quite happy about the final ‘sun kissed look’ that I had been given. On the way home I was even getting a few looks which being unusual, made me terribly chuffed! However on arrival at home, I realised that in actual fact I was not sun-kissed at all, but simply orange, bright orange. I had been turned into an Oompah Loompa … no wonder I’d been getting looks! What a prat I am!

      Liked by 1 person

  1. I used to model for MichaelJohn in Mayfair. Huge pictures of me used to hang artistically in the windows to advertise the next big thing and the brilliance of the team. I vividly remember Ricky my coiffeur taking me from a (this was the 80s) black beret like bowl cut to a white-blonde pixie cut with fuchsia tips. In order to do this he had to strip the black dye. It was a Saturday and I was seated next to a Duchess having a tiara fixed into an up-do for a coming-out ball. I was rinsed out and my hair was neon orange on the crown and a fetching day-glo yellow to just about cheek-bone length. She peered across and said ‘is it meant to look like that’ 👀…. I coolly responded ‘oh it’ll be the rage by Monday, my dear … one has that effect 😉’ and was then swept off for the final bleaching and scissoring and transformation into puckish imp. Fortunately I trusted Ricky wholeheartedly (or whole headedly at least) but I don’t think the look had the same affect on my then beloved as your vampish triumph has had on The Colonel. In fact it’s entirely possible, with hindsight, that my hair contributed to the divorce 😂 xx

    Liked by 1 person

  2. That’s hilarious. “Gingist” 😂😂. He would like it here…even our last PM was called a “Ranga” openly. Tell him to put his money where his mouth is an find you a good salon for next time 😉😉

    Like

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