Monday, May 09, 2011

Three Important People

Dubai Hairdressers: secret shares in Elnett?
I've always maintained there are three people a girl really needs on speed dial: gynae, dentist and hairdresser.  (I did once tell my lovely dentist this, and he wasn't impressed with being popped into the hairdresser category. I digress.)

I've found all three in Dubai with various levels of success.  I'd still fly 3, 000 miles, and do, to get my teeth cleaned and checked by this man (can you blame me?), have finally found a gynae who doesn't a) ask me why i haven't had a baby yet and b) can call my lady parts by their proper name and not 'down below.'  And up until recently, I thought I had the hair covered off. 

Regular readers and Dubai dwellers will know the major issues that blondes face in this region when trying to find a hairdresser who is used to dealing with European hair.  Who can forget this wonderful incident in my first few months here, when a visit to the most convenient salon near my apartment resulted in hair so huge it could be seen from the moon.  To this day, this remains my mum's favourite blog post.  She's a  cruel woman.

Anyway, as I say, I do have a great hairdresser. In addition to knowing what he's doing, he's an absolute hoot, with every session in the salon resulting in laugh-til-you-cry hysteria.  (Just don't introduce him to your new boyfriend, when he can become borderline offensive.  Make that actual offensive)  But recently I've caught sight of myself in photos and thought: really? Isn't that blonde just a little on the bright side?  You could say (and we often do) that living in Dubai is not a time to skimp on the blondness, and all the benefits it imparts (although a friend of mine has just gone very brunette, and looks divine.)  It's not just that.  Sometimes in all the hysteria, nay frenzy of the salon, I do feel that any requests I might have are overlooked.  And that we're too busy laughing to really pay attention to the levels of bleach that are being painted onto my head, and the chunks that are being cut out of my hair.

So I'm thinking, maybe, just maybe, it's time for a change.  When I uttered this out loud to the girls, I was met with gasps. "It's like cheating on your boyfriend!" they exclaimed. And to be fair, it's sometimes seems harder to find a good hairdresser than a boyfriend in this town.

Any fellow blondes out there with recommendations, please let me know.  I need case studies, credentials and perhaps a photo before I consider my options.  The Afghan Hound needs a grooming before my birthday.  And we all know when that is!

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