I have a special relationship with my hair. Not hair in general, but hair as in the ones on my head.
You can tell what's going on in my life by looking at my hair. When there's some kind of a good change in my life, I don't change my hair but I take extra good care of it. If there's a negative change in my life, I change my hair drastically. If there's not enough change in my life, or I'm not achieving the change that I'm looking for, I change my hair, because it's something I can control (= if I can't control this thing that I can't achieve, at least I can control my hair). If I'm stressed out or busy, I let my hair go and it looks horrible (like now).
I've had all kinds of hair. Up until I was 18 I had long blond hair. I always wore it up because otherwise it stuck to my head and looked horrible (yes I'm lucky to have "Finnish hair", which means that there might be lots of them but by god they are tiny and weak and prefer to stay nice and flat on your scalp). After I returned home from my exchange year in the USA, I discovered that while I was away all my friends had cut their hair short. So, encouraged by their great bravery I did the same thing.
And it's a good thing I did. Apparently I didn't look half bad with short hair, even if it took a month for me to learn how the hell to fix it. And no, having short hair doesn't mean that it's easy to fix, "just wash and go", na-a. Say bye bye to a life without hair products. Say ta-taa to a life without hair dryer. In general, just say goodbye, because the people have already gone while you're still fixing your hair.
After that I've had red hair, violet hair, brown hair, fake hair a.k.a braids, black hair, a sophisticated mo-hawk, yellow hair (by mistake though) and every 3 years or so I try to grow it long but never succeed. About six months ago I had extensions to help me grow out my hair. Didn't work out so after 6 weeks they were removed. Painfully. Now, I'm in the "I'm too busy to take care of my hair"-stage.
In Finland I used to go to my favorite hair dressers every 6 weeks. I would be "handled" by the same person every time, who knew everything about my stupid Finnish hair and how to operate it. She knew what colors we'd used before, and she would think beforehand about new cuts and ideas to propose, and she would also bring me coffee while I was waiting for the color to take effect. It cost a bit more than the other hair dressers, but by god I knew that I would walk out of there with a smile on my face.
Here in Italy it took me about 2 years to find a place that suited me.
The first problem is that nobody here has naturally blond hair, so they don't know how to color mine (which is naturally blond), and it always comes out yellow.
The second problem is that you have at least 10 people buzzing around you, and none of them know what the other one has done, so it's all just a nice big mess. One person welcomes you, other one takes your coat, one person washes your hair, there's one that applies the color, one the cuts it, one that dries it and in the end arrives yet another person who does your hair up in a way that I have to run to the car in hopes that no one sees me.
Finally I found a place that has max 2 people working on me, and they are passionate about NOT making my hair yellow.
When it comes to hair, I'm all for drastic changes. The words "I think you'd look good with XYZ" is all I need to hear from my hair dressers mouth to change my style completely. If I'm not up for a change, there's something dead wrong or I'm super duper happy. Usually the first. I love big changes, not because of the attention, but because it's hair, it grows back. It's like god saying "don't worry, go crazy, I got this!"
My hair is super important to me, even if it doesn't always look like it. Cutting my hair short made the boys look at me for the first time. Having that mo-hawk made me feel powerful after having suffered greatly due to a bad breakup. Dying my hair black made me feel more intelligent, and dying it silver made me feel Finnish among all the dark haired Italians.I don't express myself via clothing (or if I do it's not intentional), instead I do it via hair.
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