Erina, spotted & dotted @ the V&A.
I'm not an envious creature by nature - I can appreciate someone's shoes, for example, without developing a case of 'shoe envy' - I don't go round saying 'I want, I want' or even 'I die' - but I am seriously jealous of Erina's bob. Not because I can't go and get one - my hair colour & texture is quite similar - but because.. I just don't think I have the balls, frankly.
When I met her on Sunday, she'd just had it cut by someone training. Who did a great job. I've got my wonderful hairdresser, Collette, at Windle (cutting edge, 4 August) just waiting for me to return. It's been over SEVEN MONTHS!! I keep thinking.. aw, it's such a good cut, I can wait.. let's face it. I'm a big baby. I'm chicken. I'm indecisive: do I want it long? Some days I do. Other days..
I don't think there was a more radical transformation, stylistically, than the period when women chopped off their long hair (kept up in buns) for The Bob. And hiked up their skirts. And rode in cars with fast boys. The world was changing so radically in the Roaring Twenties, and The Bob summed it all up. F. Scott Fitzgerald even wrote a story about it (Bernice Bobs her Hair). Two of my favourite bloggers have just posted on that look (see 'hats off to..'). I've even had a Bob or two, over the years, so what's the big deal?
That does it. I'm booking an appointment. Altho.. I'm sure I'll end up doing just a trim ('like a long bob') The truth is, I'm just such a wuss. She does look great tho, don't you think?