I recently had the worst haircut of my life. And I’m not exaggerating.
It happened when I was overseas and I decided that I needed a trim.
For some reason, though I’ve spent 41 years doing differently, I agreed with the hairdresser that cutting my hair dry was a sensible way of doing things.
She then proceeded to unceremoniously hack her way into my curls and left me with one side about three centimetres longer than the other.
Since returning to the UK, I’ve attempted to scrunch it into a balanced style.
But I’m going to have to face up to the sad fact that I’m lopsided.
That means paying the price of having an international haircut – getting it sorted out at home.