What’s the first thing you do when you get back from holiday?

After the mountains of washing, obvs.

Visit family?

Restock the fridge?

Book your next holiday?

Not in my case. You strip your hair!

I decided, on landing at Birmingham airport, that I was done on red hair. Despite the hideously tortuous journey I went through just a few short months ago to get to any semblance of scarlet.

So – goodbye red! Arrivaderci rossa.

And, in usual me style, I couldn’t wait. It had to be done immediately.

So I found myself back in stinky boring tiresome dull hair stripping territory.

With the intention of then dyeing it brown.

But I kinda liked the stripped result. Ginger according to husband (pah). Golden according to me. With darker ends (will I never be rid of them?)

This will be unsustainable as my dark roots will start showing within a couple of weeks, but I quite like the change of tone for a short while. So I’m going to ride it out while I decide my next move.

(and also because the husband is so against it, I find it kind of funny to torment him. I didn’t just say that. OK I did).

Stripped hair

Christ, my mirror is dirty!