straight up

all these weddings out of town has meant lugging my hair drier and straightening rod and then finally abandoning it all for a hetic spray spray spray of Body Shop bilberry detangler and a quick brush through while dashing to stop amelia from pulling down the television from the stand. Ah, motherhood.

So, I finally decided to clean up my act and get my hair straightened - I had done it before for the great Oberoi wedding - for which may I add, I spent more on clothes shoes and general turniung into something neat and presentable than my own wedding.

Anyway, modern times - Last week, I called my hair dresser Geeta at Agile Fingers, Bandra and made an appointment - I had to colour my hair first a nice global soft glossy brown to cover the straw like highlights that were dyeing a slow painful death in my messy curls. Then after four days, I went back at 9.30 am while two women, washed and coated and ironed and boarded my hair for five straight hours.

Then they were all like, while you are waiting, why not get a pedicure - yes, I lurve having my feet examined for deformities by strange men. And I sat in the pedicure chair, while the pedicurist gingerly looks at my super dry soles and sighs, when did you last get a pedicure. It was a good thre months ago, again for somebody's wedding or baby shower, I'm sure. I take the words occasional pedi a bit too seriously. So he also went to work and scrubbed, and scraped and clipped and cleaned for one hour. Seriously there was a whole lot of dead skin from the diving and the weather changes and the serious neglect of my feet by me. I was his everest - the man needed a serious restorative when he was done.

But now I have swishy hair again - with gorgeous graded bangs too - I'm looking all over so elegant, I need to now get my watch fixed and bag cleaned and wear cleaner non-parleG smeared jeans. This maintainence thing never stops does it?