Blonde Ambition: The Saga Continues

So I got a pretty nice "bronde" result just from using Scott Cornwall's Decolour Hair Colour Remover on my leftover ginge (in fact, my modelling agent assumed I'd been to the salon!) but after 3 months of bleach bottle cold turkey, I was dy(e)ing to go blonder still... When I had longer locks, I prided myself on achieving the most natural-looking shade possible (so successfully that someone I'd spent at least 2 days a week with for 18 months once asked me if I'd "ever tried dyeing my hair" - result!) but I love brighter tones on shorter styles, so decided to take it to the max and leave "natural" at the door for the time being!



The (non-bleach-based) Decolour Hair Colour Remover did a grand job of nixing my red tones (read the full review here), but left my chocolate-dyed roots and underlayers fairly dark so, prior to recolouring, I decided to use the (bleach-based) Decolour Hair Colour Stripper (bonus: this one doesn't smell!), concentrating on the darker areas. One application did pretty much exactly what it said on the box, stripping the lighter areas to a very light yellowy blonde, and the darker areas to an orangey medium blonde.

I think a second application would have taken me down to a uniform pale yellow, but I opted to recolour immediately with a Nice 'n Easy "box" colour (their lightest option - SB2: Ultra Light Cool Summer Blonde). This did tone down the yellow/orange factor and smooth out some of the residual "patchiness", but the result was still too warm for my liking...

So it was back to Boots to grab some Colour Restore Toner in Iced Platinum. Scott recommends toning immediately after stripping (preferably following two applications of Stripper for a "pure" platinum tone), whilst the cuticles are still open, and not after applying a "box" colour, since silicones and waterproofing agents tend to seal the cuticles off once colouring is complete, so I knew I couldn't expect miracles, but, armed with a bottle of clarifying shampoo with which to prise open my cuticles as best I could, I decided to give it a shot anyway.

Although I didn't end up Stefani blonde, it definitely turned up the "cool" factor another notch or two, and, although my hair still retains all the variation in tone put in for the Essential Looks shows (underneath all that red), casual observers seem to assume I've paid a fortune for my "multi-tonal" blonde, so I guess I shouldn't complain!

Overall, although the journey from red to platinum(ish) has taken a little while, I'm really glad I decided to take it in stages - I've seen hair go from dark brown to white in less than 40 minutes at hair shows... and then proceed to snap in less than 2 minutes (eek!) so I'm pretty impressed (and relieved) to have discovered an option that's caused virtually no damage. Thumbs up to Mr Cornwall!

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Review: Scott Cornwall Decolour Hair Colour Remover

As much as I enjoyed toying with titian temptress tresses, I've never stopped thinking of myself as a blonde, so, once my obligation to submit to crazy colour mousse as and when required expired with my final SS15 hair show, it felt like time to go back...

But, with chocolate-dyed roots and underlayers mingling with orange-toned coppers, all layered over yet more layers of bright reds, getting back to blonde seemed like a tough ask... Before I resorted to salon-strength bleach, I decided to try the DIY route... enter Scott Cornwall Decolour Hair Colour Remover.

As a result of my extensive online review-based research on the various home colour removal products available, I knew I had to prepare myself for three things, no matter which I ended up choosing:

1. The stench of rotting eggs
2. Very little idea of which colours might be lurking under all those layers of dye, ready to reveal themselves in all their glory (or horror)
3. A high probability of ending up ginger 

Filled with equal parts excitement and trepidation, then, I mixed up my magic potion, followed the instructions for dark colours/colour build-up to the letter, and...

1. The smell was pretty rank, yes - more like drains than rotting eggs, I'd say... but bearable (forewarned is - mentally - forearmed), and fairly quick to dissipate once I'd finished.
2. It went blonde - hooray! The darker roots and underlayers stayed darker, but this could be my natural hair colour, grown out in the time since I first hit the red.
3. A pretty gingery blonde, to be sure, but still a lot less ginger than I was when I started! I popped a semi-permanent ash blonde colour containing very low bleach levels (Boots Botanics Hair Colour in Light Ash Blonde) on to correct the tone, which helped, although the colour is still slightly warmer and darker than I'd ideally like (for some reason, the above photos don't really show a difference pre- and post-colour application - bottom right was taken before applying, and bottom left after).

Overall, I'm really pleased with the results, which are better than I dared to hope for (- and, amazingly, my hair didn't seem to incur any damage during the process - in fact, even before applying the conditioning treatment, it felt great). In a week or so (unless I nab another hair job and end up with another entirely new look, that is!), I'll recolour using a lighter, permanent colour, which was always part of the plan, but that's purely down to personal whim, and, until then, I certainly won't be reluctant to leave the house (or go to the two job interviews I've got lined up... well, maybe I will, but not because of the hair!).

Do you dare to DIY..?

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In the Red

Colour-based identity crisis averted! With 6 weeks to go until I next submit myself to the hands of the professionals (and re-embrace my multicoloured 'fro), I decided to take matters into my own hands and nix my rapidly fading "Fruit Salad" sweet packaging look... a gamble which, thankfully, paid off! I used Schwarzkopf Live Color XXL in Red Passion to finally land my dream red shade... Despite mum's (unfounded) fears for the bathroom tile grouting, the process was remarkably easy and fuss free (although the "river of blood" effect during rinsing was somewhat disquieting for a lifelong blondie)... In anticipation of the notoriously difficult task of combating fading, I'm planning to keep some Scott Cornwall Colour Restore Toner close at hand, but, one wash in, my colour's still blazing!

I love, love, love this shade, but it does throw an interesting light onto some of the colour questions I've been considering recently... Going for such an intense, vibrant hue has massively amped up my "contrast levels", making my skin appear shades paler, creating a need for far greater levels of definition in terms of make-up (= excuse for new lipstick)... and making dusky pink dresses (the whimsical blonde's failsafe) a laughable no-go. Something to bear in mind if you're considering a drastic colour change: you're going to have a rock solid excuse for a make-up bag/wardrobe shake-up.

Top and Skirt: Boohoo (Past Season), Shoes: Primark 

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A Day in the Life of a Hair Model

Just as I settle down to life behind the scenes of the fashion industry, I end up making my catwalk debut! Yup, as you may by now have noticed, I've gone for the chop, and hit the (ketchup?) bottle, to showcase SS15's boho/'70s/festival look, as conceived by a well-known hair brand. A few days ago, it was off to Edinburgh and Manchester for my first two shows, so I thought I'd give you a little insight into my first turn on the runway. It's not all limos and champagne, you know (unfortunately)...

5.15am

Time to get up. I've had a total of 7 hours sleep over the last 2 nights combined, but, compared to yesterday, when I was up at 3.15am to get to Heathrow for 5am, this qualifies as a lie-in. Brush teeth, throw clothes on bodies/in bags as appropriate, drag Tangle Teezers through birdnest-like ruins of last night's show 'dos, slap on some tinted moisturiser and cream blush, and make our way downstairs to check out and pick up our takeaway breakfast bags. Ham and cheese sandwiches, plus yoghurts containing gelatine - since almost half our party of models and creatives are veggie, including me: epic fail. Thankfully, I manage to salvage a banana and mini pain au chocolat, to supplement my trusty Belvitas.

5.45am

Coach to Edinburgh train station. Sadly, we didn't get to see much (well, any) of the city, as we were in rehearsals and/or rollers all day yesterday, and by the time the show was over, all anyone wanted to do was sleep. My roommate and I did valiantly venture into the wind and drizzle in an attempt to take in some culture, but all we managed were a couple of Galaxy Cookie Crumble McFlurrys.

Proof that I was in Edinburgh - see, castle!

6.15am

Train to Manchester Piccadilly. Having demolished my banana/pastry/Belvita breakfast combo, I finish watching some talks by Nick Knight and the Dazed team downloaded in preparation for my epic journeying (ever the dedicated fashion student), and manage half a Cary Grant/Katharine Hepburn classic before I have to allow my eyelids to submit to gravity.

9.27am

Arrive in Manchester. Coach to The Monastery, our home for today. Our second breakfast of the day is waiting for us (yes, this may be a highlight of the job). I restrict myself to one of the ridiculously tempting array of pastries on offer, since we're currently eating four times a day and getting no exercise save for half an hour or so of intense strutting, but most of the other (5'11" and matchstick-thin) models scoff at least three... Honestly, nobody would have any concerns about eating disorders in the fashion industry if they spent a few hours with us!

10.30am

Waiting around. With 19 models to be coloured, dried, styled and made-up, this is how we spend the vast majority of our time. Luckily, I managed to pick up the latest issues of Wonderland and Dazed at Heathrow (after security, so they wouldn't monopolise my entire hand baggage allowance!), which are keeping me occupied over the long days...

11.45am

Have my hair washed, dried and set in pincurls. Washed, bent over a kitchen sink with remnants of food still stuck in the plughole... which was a blessed relief, after yesterday's DIY "hands and knees in the shower" job - cold blood-tinted water from my newly-touched-up colour running down neck and arms and seeping into clothes (for some reason, no one thought to put salon basins in any of these 19th century churches or friaries). Back in the 21st century, and no one thought to bring towels on tour either, so we're mopped up with (admittedly rather luxe) napkins.

12.45pm

More waiting around. Some of the other girls are feeling a bit stir crazy, so, since the cold drizzle which seemingly tails us everywhere we go has at least temporarily eased off, go for a walk, or to sit outside in the picturesque courtyard. I attempt to join them, but, miraculously sunny though it may be, the wind is whipping up a frenzy and tugging my curls out of my pins, so I'm banished back inside. Oh well, only a few minutes to kill 'til lunch at 1.30...

1.20pm

Called in for rehearsals. We troop in, bedecked with foils, rollers and/or pins (an attempt to lighten one girl's blue fringe has turned it green - oops), to find that the show finale is being changed. And we're going to miss lunch. Despite my background as a dancer, I'm terrified of messing up the (remarkably involved) choreography - one step out of turn could ruin the show's sharp, polished feel. Several slip-ups from various people during this rehearsal, including a micro "brain freeze" on my part, which results in me attempting to march offstage at the wrong time (wishful thinking?) but it'll be alright on the night... won't it?

The runway is waiting...

2.40pm

Lunch (finally). The kitchen has whipped up some extra food for us - veggie pasta and pizza, plus the ubiquitous chips which seem to pop up at every meal and which I (unlike most of the others - seriously, where does it go?) studiously avoid, in the hopes that the only pounds I gain from this job will be monetary. 

3.00pm

Waiting around.

4.00pm

Make-up. Try desperately to avoid blinking/crying whilst having my eyeliner done.

4.30pm

Waiting around. The air is now ringing with the cries of harrassed stylists declaring "There's no point in her going on if there's no green in her hair!" and suchlike, and perfumed with the scent of burning locks.

5.30pm

Time for my hair to be "dressed" (yes, that term is actually still used in the upper echelons of the salon world!). This involves being "zhuzhed" so furiously that I fear I am in danger of ending up with concussion, misted with about a litre of hairspray, and backcombed until I resemble a cross between a candyfloss and Ronald McDonald, which, admittedly, does appeal to my inner drama queen - it feels as though I've wandered off the pages of some fantastical fairytale-style editorial... or a McQueen runway!

Show Looks...

5.40pm

Time to get dressed. I pull on my "cold-shoulder" tassel-trim mini dress and to-die nude tasselled Steve Madden heels, whilst the (fashion) stylist sneakily slips an orange/pink-tasselled necklace (yes, to match my hair!) over my now-significantly-expanded head, away from the watchful eye of my (hair) stylist.

5.45pm

Waiting around.

6.10pm

I am simultaneously touched up by make-up, sprayed and tweaked by my hair stylist, and adjusted and steamed by the fashion stylist (this happens several times in the run-up to, and even during, showtime - honestly? I thought they were all a little bit nuts, but, having now spent 20 minutes attuned like a hawk to the slightest sign of cravat/necklace displacement whilst styling my first editorial shoot, I think I get it...). I am now banned from sitting down until after the show.

6.15pm

We go "backstage". 

6.25pm

Nerves kick in. Repeat various crucial elements of choreography to myself, in manner of mantra.

6.30pm

Showtime! Now, I've danced live on Channel 4, been nearly naked on film with Chris Hemsworth and played Brecht onstage, but, with no dance moves to focus on or characters to hide behind, I think this is more nerve wracking than any of the above... I even have to smile, since I'm one of the show's "happy hippies", so I can't style it out, diva-like. Maybe it'll get easier as I (hopefully) gain experience, but, right now, I'm just praying no-one sees my legs trembling whilst we're frozen for "inspection" and re-styling onstage. 

7.20pm

It's all over! No noticeable hitches, and our lovely agent/choreographer reassures me that I was "brilliant". Time for dinner...

7.30pm

The options are... meat... meat... or chips. Doh. The chef has gone home, but the apologetic serving staff whip us up a salad. For dessert, I delve into my magic lunchbox for a Trek bar.

8.40pm

Coach to the train station. In contrast to last night, most of the girls are high on triumph and/or relief, and some club together for Prosecco/G&T for the journey back to London, but my head is throbbing and I'm craving sleep. I finish Bringing Up Baby before putting Lorde on repeat to insulate my achy head from the sounds of excited girlish chatter. I manage a few winks, although my neck and shoulders are killing me after two days of being yanked about by stylists and lugging all my essentials (not least those tome-like magazines!) around over my shoulder a la Dick Whittington. Apparently, with nicer scheduling, which allows a bit of additional time for sleep and/or alcohol, these jobs can be a lot more fun, so fingers crossed for next time!

1am

Finally home. Debrief mum, drink two mugs of tea and catch up on Made in Chelsea before crawling into bed (well, you know, priorities).

So... categorically not glamorous and not for the faint-hearted (at least where your alarm clock and hair are concerned - you're at your stylists' mercy and never really know what you're going to end up with... if they end up damaging your hair beyond repair, or don't like the results, they could well cancel any future bookings - and I'm reliably informed by my fellow models that this applies to all runway work, since catwalk is crazy hair a-go-go). And not a way to see the world. But if you get the opportunity, you're feeling daring and you have strands of steel (and some reading to catch up on), hey, why not? I love my new hair now it's had its final tweaks (although I won't be emulating the "Ronald" look for day-to-day purposes), I've met some lovely people, I've worn some fabulous shoes... and I got two free hairsprays.

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DIY Dip-Dye: Superdrug Instant Colour Hairspray in Pink Punch

Marking my last hair-raising hurrah as a blonde and my first foray into vlogging with quite possibly my most extreme venture into colour blocking to date... If it's too cold to omit knitwear from my spring outfits, then by heck, that wool gonna be neon!

For my full review of the hairspray, along with some actual moving footage of today's #OOTD, please take a gander at the vid, and do head over to my brand new YouTube channel and say hello/like/subscribe, should the fancy take you...

Jumper and Dress (Worn as Skirt): Both Primark, Shoes: New Look

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Leopard Love-In + New Hair

So this week, for the first time in 2 years, I *gasp* had my hair cut - a whole 6 inches of it - which still leaves it waist length, although it feels like a bob to me! The ends were probably over a decade old, and, in the manner universally associated with pre-teens, had become rather unruly over the last year or two, so I decided it was about time to say goodbye before I ended up tripping over them (with quite a lot of prompting from my mum). I'm still getting used to the eerie neatness of my newly tamed and blunted mane - kinda missing my wild wispy tendrils, even though my arms used to get all tangled up in them when I was taking my outfit photos... Still, I'm sure most of you wouldn't have even noticed the "big change" if I hadn't pointed it out! I've still got quite a few shots taken before the chop to show you in the near future, in case you get confused...

This dress was a £10 bargain buy I picked up in one of those little independent shops selling garments produced by "brands" no one anywhere has ever heard of - always satisfying to find a gem amongst the ubiquitous wonky hems and loose threads!

Dress: Signature, Shoes: Primark (Current)

And this is the "just stepped out of the salon" straightened version. I quite like it, but still think I prefer a bit more natural movement day to day... I know super straight hair keeps coming back "in", but it always amuses me that the standard high street salon look hasn't strayed from flat-ironed (preferably accompanied by an off-centre parting and side sweeping fringe) for over a decade - this look always takes me back to the mid-noughties, when I arrived at uni and panic-purchased my first pair of GHDs on being stunned by the mirror-like qualities of everyone else's hair! I rebelled in my second year, becoming hooked on tongs instead, before finally settling on (nearly) natural waves (partly due to an inability to master the perfect blow-dry, partly to minimise heat damage, but mainly because it just felt like "me"). Nice to have a change occasionally though... Plus, I have found that a wavy blow-dry is even more painful than the usual yanking I experience at the hands of the torturers, er, stylists, who always seem confounded by the sheer volume of hair I present them with - if I went every 6 weeks I don't think I'd have any strands left!

Dress: Primark (Past Season)

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