Fuss-free Frizz

Like many women of my vintage,I’ve barely meddled with my hair. As a preteen I wore it long,and school demanded it always to be braided (black scrunchies only,mind you). My teenage years saw me get a fringe,it masked my adolescent insecurities. And the shoulder-length bob was freedom from hair accessories of all hues. I’ve coloured it once when a pushy socialite was trying to promote her hair salon. But I stuck to the shade closest to my hair. I’ve still to start dyeing,my few greys are comfortable being hand-plucked so far.

Women in Mumbai,where I live,haven’t seen the sun all week. The rains have wreaked havoc on the city’s roads,traffic and daily life. Understandably,social soirees beyond a 15-minute drive are abandoned. What took 15 minutes to reach last month,now takes 45. But oh,the blow-dry can’t wait that long. It is now dank,clammy and wisps of monkey hair have appeared.

The funny thing is,I’m not a fussy client at a salon. Sometimes I’ll try out a new place recommended by a friend. I usually sit down in front of the top stylist and pretty much let him have his way with me. I pay a pretty penny for my haircut,but he hasn’t had enough. In the last year alone,I’ve been talked into buying several hair products,none of which work at home.

I have bought a Paul Mitchell Heat Seal,which does nothing to stop my cowlick from burning within the hot-iron tongs when I’m trying to straighten it. L’Oreal’s Volume Lift root-lift spray mousse is for when I’m looking for bounce and volume,but the humid weather turns it into hair oil in my mane. I was also made to buy L’Oreal’s Liss Ultime to apply to my tips after a blast-dry,but the bottle remains unopened. The frizzies,thanks to the moisture in the air,are beyond serums,mousses,sprays and creams. When I want them to zig,they zag.

Last week,a strange thing happened. When I was looking (and feeling) my worst,thanks to the wet weather,an electric-curled friend said my hair looked great that day. My friend is tall and broad and blessed with a thick mop of curls. She tried straightening her locks and it fell like a curtain on her face.

Many of us aren’t blessed with hair that suits our faces or our frame,and I’m all for a little salon science to correct that. But what I needed was to realise that my hair is telling me that it is versatile. It can be anything I want it to be. It won’t let me take it for granted and likes to throw me the odd curveball.

It’s forcing me to be adventurous,come rain

or shine.