So, pregnancy brings great joy, of course. But let’s be honest, pregnancy itself is no great joy. The nausea, the raging hormones, the headaches, the aching back, the extensive list of things you cannot eat and drink, the sports you cannot partake of…the list goes on. Luckily there are some upsides too. For me those upsides were allowing myself cake far more regularly than I normally would (which is still probably too regularly!), and the joy of ‘pregnancy hair’.
In an ideal world I could happily eat cake for breakfast. Cake makes everything feel better. Unlike pregnancy hormones, crashing around your body, making everything feel weird and emotional. But at least those pregnancy hormones do have the benefit of tricking your hair into staying put instead of falling out at its usual rate. Result? A full head of glossy, thick hair. The old days of hairballs clogging the shower drains every morning become a distant memory as the weeks role by. It starts to feel normal having such luxuriant locks.
You read that it all starts falling out again quite rapidly after giving birth, but you think ‘how bad can it be?‘. Well, let’s just say that three months later I was quietly beginning to hope that I was one of the lucky ones and I was going to end up retaining my pregnancy-boosted hair, long term. But a further two months down the line, I can categorically say that hope was in vain. How is it possible to lose so much hair, and not be entirely bald?!
So in an effort to show my hair some love and maybe persuade it not to all leave, I decided to treat it to a long overdue cut. This is something I normally save for my trips home to England, so it wasn’t a decision I took lightly. I’ve had some seriously dodgy haircuts before. The kind that make you find a hairdresser you trust and stick with them. Forever. So getting my hair cut in Brunei is a big step for me. The salons I’ve found here to date are a long way from my experiences back home.
Here, the hairdressers don’t speak great English, so complicated explanations of what you want and don’t want are out. There is no ‘would you like a latte/sparkling water/glass of wine?’ while you are pampered either. And don’t expect warm water hair washes or styling products. However, the scalp massage is truly sublime and well worth braving the cold water wash that comes at the end. It’s no thirty second absent minded hair twiddle by a young hairdressing assistant, whilst she talks to her nearest colleague about X-factor. There’s a full ten minutes of proper massage, kneading out knots in your neck and shoulders, working the pressure points on your scalp and face. UK salons could definitely learn a thing or two. Back in the hot seat, fully relaxed and lolling sleepily, the hair cut itself was actually relatively quick and painless. Ten centimetres off the bottom, in a straight line. Easy.
Surprised that a). it was indeed cut in a straight line, and b). that I actually quite liked it, I was left wondering where to go next in order to show off my lovely new haircut. Not living in a buzzing metropolis, the options are seriously limited. I headed down to the towns one and only coffee shop. But really, you can’t have coffee without a little something nice on the side can you?!
Mini chocolate tarts smaller than an espresso surely don’t even count as being bad for you, do they?!
The pregnancy hair may be a thing of the past, but at least what is left of my mane is looking a little healthier now. And of course there is always still cake.