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Monday, June 15, 2009

Curl up and Dye

You know you’re having a bad day when your Google search is: ‘how do I get hair dye off my face.’

I was looking forward to tonight. I had the flat to myself and it’s my birthday tomorrow - two great reasons to be totally self indulgent, not that I need reasons. So I nipped to Asda after work, purchased a face mask and some hair dye, ready to have some proper home spa-ing. Only, I forgot to check for hair dye all over my face before I sat down for the 35 minutes it tells you to sit down for while the permanent hair dye works it’s magic on your hair.

It would be one thing to emerge the other side of my 35 minutes with a completely different barnet. But I dye my dark brown hair dark brown, so the fact I’m now battling streaks of brown across my face hardly seems worth it.

There’s a big slash of brown across my cheek and various speckles across my forehead. When my mum used to dye my hair I never had this problem, for she had eyes. And sense. Now I’m all alone, a grown up who is supposed to read instruction manuals, I look like I’m ready for war.

Which is what brought me to ask Google to save me. Please, Google, you can do it.

Obviously within 0.02 milliseconds I’d found a forum of like minded fools. Toothpaste, lemon juice, baking soda, cigarettes ashes, nail polish remover, a pumice stone, baby oil, various things I can only presume are American – like Magic Eraser, and finally, bleach.

I’m quite fond of the skin on my face so there are a few things I’m not prepared to try, and a few things I don’t have lying around the house. So I grab the toothpaste, nail polish remover and a pumice stone, opting not to smear my skin in baby oil for fear of acne, and avoiding the bleach beside the loo for fear of, well, it just doesn’t sound like something I want to put on my skin. Unless absolutely necessary…

For anyone out there who one day finds themselves in this predicament – don’t pumice your face. Unless you want streaky brown hair dye marks and a red rash, like what I’m now sporting.

Aware that time is of the essence and for every second I don’t get this stuff off my face, it’s settling down to it’s destiny as a 6-8 week permanent dye, I scrap the pumice and head for the nail varnish remover.

The forum would like me to remind you at this stage that lots of different suggestions actually have adverse reactions to each other and it’s not suggested to try one after the other in quick succession. Well, tough titties. Quick succession and mild desperation are all I have.

Nail polish remover stings like TCP on a grazed knee. As does lemon juice, but worse. Both of these might have been less painful if I hadn’t just pumiced my face red raw, I’ll never know. All I’ve got left now is toothpaste. I smear a load all over my face and asses the situation.

The sink is full of lemon slices and cotton wool drenched in all manner of household goods, my hair is the same colour as it was before I started this night of ‘relaxation’ but my face is now a fetching shade of red with bright white strips all over it. Throw in some blue and you’ve got yourself a walking Aquafresh advert, although perhaps not the type of advert that makes people want to rush out and buy Aquafresh.

Perhaps it was a combination of all the things I’ve just put my face through, perhaps just the toothpaste, but something worked. The streaky dark lines are fading. I’ve done two rounds of toothpaste smearing now and I reckon by tomorrow’s birthday catch-up with friends I’ll be able to hide what’s left of the war paint under some heavy duty Max Factor.

Crikey. What a night. I was going to blog about how much I like ambulances, but now it doesn’t seem relevant. Maybe next time. I do really like ambulances. More than hair dye, anyway.

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