Robyn’s Nest

I was talking to a work buddy today about my evil April and she cleverly suggested turning May into a month of treats. Kinda like compensation. What a good idea!

So, after a whole month burying my head in books May will be the month for having fun and letting my hair down. Plans include the following:

• A night on the tiles with my best mate
• Hen weekend in Nottingham on the theme of Pink Ladies (although this will involve ice skating, eek, not my favourite sport)
• A visit from Sambo and Bloater
• A Ladies Wot Dine event at my place (third in a series of dinner and wine events with the girls from work - it will probably involve singing too)
• Ceilidh in aid of Relay for Life (some volleyballers and co are arranging a series of super fun social events to raise money for a charity close to a friend’s heart, as he’s just been given the all clear from Leukeamia)
• Two Bank Holidays, which means two three-day weekends and two four-day working weeks, yippee
• Race for Life in Milton Keynes (running with some work buddies, helping with my pre-summer fitness campaign)
• Pyjama party with some of the Leicester girls. It’s my turn to host it I think (the last one involved our version of pin the tail on the donkey - using a cut-out willy - and pass the parcel with thongs as prizes. What fun!)
• The end of volleyball season means long nails can stay - book manicure
• Hair cut, colour and conditioning treatment. The straw look is not high fashion
• All the stresses and strains of work and study will fade away with a hot stones massage
• Sessions with the personal trainer, what a hottie! (Sorry, I didn’t quite get that move, can you show me again please?)
• Spending spree, investing in some summery outfits (hopefully Mr Sunshine will have shown his face by then), some Urban Decay make-up and what ever else takes my fancy
• Sunbed sessions - the pre-holiday preparation starts here, bring on the summer glow

Only 30 days to go….

Going to the hairdresser, for me,  is like going and having a coffee with a mate - the only difference being they’re wielding a pair of scissors or a brush loaded with bleach.

So, when I moved to Milton Keynes from Leicester a couple of months ago I had to say goodbye to my hairdresser and find a new one. I chose a well known salon, stupidly thinking that the more money I handed over, the better experience I’d get. Not so.

The woman colourist (is that what you call the people who dye your hair?) and the hairdresser were both distinctly lacking in charisma and instead of idle chit-chat - not even a mention of where I’d be going on holiday this year! - I got resounding silence from the pair of them.

Yes, it’s nice to know they’re concentrating on their work but I enjoy the experience of going to the hairdresser, of forging a relationship with the salon and making friendly conversation with the people hovering around your head.

When I left I didn’t feel or even look like i’d “just stepped out of a salon” but instead felt ignored and disappointed that £90 - yes, that’s right folks, 90 flamin’ squid! - had got me the kind of cut and blow dry my 13-year-old sister would have given me and a colour I hadn’t asked for.

Yes, I should have spoken up before leaving the salon but it’s oh so hard to tell someone to their face that they’ve done a duff job. Especially when they’re saying how lovely you look - they would wouldn’t they!

So, it’s back to the drawing board for me. Still need to find a hairdresser who can be my mate, who will listen to what I say. People have said my hair looks nice, they’re probably being polite, but it’s not what I asked for and that makes me cross. I’m definitely not scissor happy!

Part of the experience of getting your hair snipped is the relationship you forge with the salon. Let’s face it, if you like these people and the service they provide you’ll go back.