Escapism

So here’s the thing. I make a lot of jokes about goofing off & not trying too hard – all of these things are basically pure fantasy. I love my job. Teaching is in my bones and I find it nigh on impossible to switch off.

I work “part time” now, by which I mean I am contracted to work 4 days each week, spend my day off marking & prepping, and tutor 4 evenings & Saturday mornings. Part time = 45+ hours each week. When I’m not working, I’m mulling something over about work. So I needed a distraction that wasn’t generalized ranting on Twitter.

I’ve blogged a lot before about the need for pacing and work/life balance, but I just suck at it. Take right now as an example – it’s past midnight & I have a meeting tomorrow (today) with someone who I really want to approve of me as a teacher (fuck. I’m 38 & have been doing this a decade. Why am I still seeking approval like a puppy?!). Ok, I’m mainly awake because my knee dislocated, it’s swollen like a balloon, and liquid morphine keeps me awake.

So yeah, here I am at peak anxiety with pain levels that are piercing through the usual drugs & a top up of 20ml morphine. Anxiety does not help with pain, so I learnt to meditate.

I ought to mention that I’m equally shit at meditating because my brain gets bored. I sit here & do a “body check”. Breathe in……. Breathe out….. Breathe in…… Toes…um… Shit. I can’t feel my toes! …. Calm down dickhead, we haven’t felt our toes in years. Oh yeah…… Breathe out…..

I place myself somewhere calm….. here I am dancing gazelle-like through the fields of my mind… getting to know my new roleplaying character…. Clear your mind…. Nope…. And relaaaax…. Nope.

Because actually where I get to relax is inside my head creating stuff. As a weird only child, I spent ages in my room building home made maps & villages where the stories I told to the people in my head took place. I was generally far happier chatting to made up people than real ones. Mr Geek shares my love of sitting quietly with little plastic figures & watches from his office as I bring my imaginary friends out to play with others.

It’s been decades since I created something more personal than cool learning resources. I’ve sunk all of my creativity into developing CSI style codebreaking resources, Elma the Elephant hexadecimal colouring, Game of Prolog, Revision Twister… But over the past few months the games have crept back in. First came Warhammer, then Bloodbowl (if you suck at meditating, try painting teeny little orcs for weeks on end), then over the past few weeks I’ve been lucky enough to be invited to join some roleplaying games online and have just started a weekly campaign.

Before you back away from the nerd, hear me out.

Today was Game Zero – working out who we are, our back stories, the world around us & how we gel as a team. What I remember from teenage games was us as kids picking the warrior woman with the massive tits and distracting guards with nipples (and frankly nearly killing our shy DM who barely looked at women let alone knew what a real boob looked like). Instead, what we got was a game that lets us test out our psyche.

“What do you want from this character?” Holy crap, that’s a deep question. By this point I was already invested so just went with it.

In a group of just four, one is seeing what it’s like to have real faith, one is living knowing that they will die, one is merging being a young soldier with hidden disabilities, and another a manchild rebelling against caring parents for the greater good of those around him. This is heavy stuff – not your average elven archer skipping through the forest in suggestively shiney tights. I have to hand it to Blood – she unpicked our characters until they were real. We all know at some point a specific character is going to die, and yet we’re going to willingly get attached. Self-preservation mode has pressed the eject button & has shot itself through the ceiling.

So here we are, instead of meditating and clearing my mind to reduce pain, I’ve created Pip (Lady Philippa Billingworth), a genetically modified soldier with the anger issues of an orphaned teenage girl, topped with a mutation causted by the faulty collagen gene already in her body allowing her to bend & break her body seemingly at will. She’s the angry, frustrated internal me, albeit with a 7ft much more functional body and weapons. That can’t be a good idea…

To see what we’re up to & some of the other weird and wonderful activities from the guys, check out these links:

You can find me on Twitter at @I_Am_Spanners

Please do check out the Bloodthirsty puppets at either their website or Twitch (where you’ll get points for watching which you can use to mess with the game play!)

www.bloodthirstypuppets.co.uk

Bloodthirsty Puppets Twitch Channel – Regular games of various fun. Catch me every Monday at 7.30pm GMT, and watch along with me on Friday Night Spiced at 8pm GMT (unsurprisingly on Fridays), plus plenty of others.

And of course, I can’t do an intro to me being allowed to play with tese guys witbout mentioning ‘the hot one’

Skaggeth Twitch Channel – this guy is an absolute dude.

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Almost brushed my hair

Happened just the other day.

It was getting kinda long….

Ok. Enough with the terrible Crosby, Steele, Nash, & Young puns (Apolgies to their fans).

I’ve blogged a number of times about my journey into the realms of no & low poo in the pursuit of taming my curly hair. And with all credit to Lorraine Massey, the creator of the Cirly Girl Method, it really has worked. I’ve gone from looking like this:

Red - puppet from fraggle rock who has wild fluffy hair

To this:

Merida from Brave

Now I know that Merida is not known for her uniform beach waves, and frankly neither will I be. My hair is an extension of my personality, and as such is wild, unconforming, has a mind of it’s own, and is more often than not an alarming mess. But, it’s now doing what my genetics meant it to do instead of being dried out by sulphates and brushed into a frizzy mess. It’s now a curly mess!

This isn’t it’s finest hour (or mine – this was 1.30am New Years Day!), but it was at least behaving. So, why the post title? Well…

I’ve used a number of help groups online to guide me through my curly girl journey and learnt so many new terms that I almost speak a new language. It’s been a journey to find out what makes my curls ‘pop’ (look defined) and which conditioners & products work for me – and the kids, and interestingly there isn’t much crossover despite us all having wavy/curly hair. In the end, I’ve got a list of what works for me and it’s not wholly faithful to the strictest methods.

One particular product has an alcohol listed waaaay down the ingredient list and inadvertently posting this on a CG group was met with almost apoplectic rage reactions (I’ll post the routine below). Don’t poke the hornet’s nest? Why not? Fanatics annoy me & announcing I now also used sulphate free shampoo to negate hard water in addition to the evil styling product was just too much for some. It was akin to running into a room of hard line vegans smothered in nothing but bovril & shouting “I love bacon”.

So why is my routine still working? Probably because I follow the foundations of no sulphates, no silicones, & no brushing without being terrifically obsessed by having perfect 3c curls. Because I don’t. And it’s just hair.

Current routine*:

(✔ = hardcore CG friendly)

  • Small amount of Shea Moisture Black Castor Oil Shampoo (sulphate free) ✔
  • Cowash & detangle with Sainsburys Coconut Oil Conditioner & wide toothed comb ✔
  • Condition with Shea Moisture Coconut oil & hibiscus conditioner (leave in) ✔
  • Add a bit more by squishing in Organic Shop Honey & grape conditioner ✔
  • Squish in a tiny 2 peas worth of Cantu curl activator ✔
  • Squish in some Boots pink Curl Creme (….eviiiiiiiiiil – has a bit of alcohol, but removes all frizz so fuck it)
  • Squish in some Shea Moisture curling custard ✔
  • Plop for an hour
  • Diffuse until crunchy
  • Replop into a buff/satin cap & sleep
  • Scrunch out any final crunch in the morning

*My hair is super thirsty, so this much conditioner will not suit everyone.

This only happens once every week. All other days I sleep in a buff & if need be wet, re-diffuse, thenlargely ignore.

I’m looking forward to getting a bit more length so I can properly channel Merida.

For now, have you found what works for your wavy/curly/coily hair? Share the love!

Know Thy Heritage – A Christmas Investigation

With the season upon us where the weather is colder, the nights are longer, and the tribal call of the Daily Mail reader turns to all things British Christmas, it’s time for a festive blog. There are a number of videos doing the rounds explaining why people voted to pull Britain out of the EU – these are invariably incoherent rants about brown people. Case in point below:

http://www.lbc.co.uk/radio/presenters/james-obrien/james-obriens-response-to-racist-brexit-voter/

Of course, this time of year the ‘keep Britain British’ rantings turn to all things seasonal. “Keep our nativity plays!”, “It’s Happy Christmas, not Holidays!”, and my favorite “We’re not even allowed to say Christmas’.* So it got me thinking, with ever declining attendance at actual Church services, what are these extra-British people celebrating?

*You are. Stop being ridiculous.

Now for Christians the world over, traditions are different. For instance, Coptic Christians celebrate Christmas in January (the original date before the Romans changed it to be nearer the Winter Solstice), and Advent traditionally is a time of preparation for the four weeks prior to the big festival. Preparations in this case meaning self reflection, fasting, and prayer that the second coming of Christ will heal the violence and evil in world.

Now, this doesn’t sound much like the ‘British Christmas’ being mourned for. So let’s have a look at some of the things that we actually do in the festive season and their roots.

So December 25th… not actually the wine making dude’s birthday. It’s certainly close, but was moved to be closer to the winter Solstice celebrated by Pagans across Europe (including Britain). The Solstice falls on the shortest day of the year, usually around 21st December and is part of the Yule Festival which lasts for 12 days. Now, that sounds familiar! 12 days? On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me… a Solstice because that’s actually where the meaning of the 12 days comes from – Pagans celebrate family and the return of the sun from the Solstice until the new year.

That decorated Christmas tree has to be British, right? Christmas trees have their roots in many places (ba boom tsss), but the idea of bringing in an evergreen tree hails back to imagesCeltic Pagan traditions. Bringing in an evergreen was thought to bring in the spirits that lived in the tree into the warmth. Each night, the family would hand sweet foods on the tree as an offering to the ‘little people’. The Christmas tree as we know it was a German tradition, instead a variety of evergreens were used in Britain – Evergreen trees represent everlasting life and were a powerful message back then that the winter would not last forever and life would return.

Mistletoe_Berries_UkEver had a quick kiss under the mistletoe? This was an evergreen particularly revered by Driuids who went to great lengths to collect it. The reason for kissing beneath it? The unusual white berries represent the fertile semen of the life giving man which combined with the evergreen was a powerful fertility symbol.

And that wreath you’ve hung on your door: yep, you guessed it, has nothing to do with Christianity whatsoever. Again, the evergreen theme comes back here, but this time its about protection from evil spirits. Holly was thought to deter them with its spiky leaves and because Holy symbolizes the feminine with its red berried representing women’s blood,this also means protection.  When combined in a wreath, holly & mistletoe represent fertile marriage and the rebirth of the sun. With the wreath being circular, this also symbolizes the circle of life.

But what about the lights? There’s nothing more British than decking your house with enough lights to signal to the international space station.The-Brailsford-familys-Christmas-lights-display-in-Okebourne-Road-Brentry

But with the Pagans and Druids celebrating the return of the sun, Yule is a festival of fire & light. It is quite literally celebrating the return of the light. Candles were lit, oranges /apples were sliced, died, and hung in the house to represent the sun and a 5 pointed star was placed in a prominent position. For Jewish celebrations, this would represent the Star of David – in Pagan celebrations, the star represents the five elements. There are only so many symbols!

ah, but you wouldn’t get presents if it wasn’t for a proper British Christmas. This is very true – if you were celebrating the Christian holiday, then gift giving doesn’t feature. However, the tradition of gift giving and acts of kindness throughout the season are cast in the footsteps of our ancestors. This is the season where we celebrate new life and family and the tradition of gift giving was established long before the Romans rocked up.

So should we protect our traditional British Christmas? Of course. Anything which lightens the dark winter nights and lifts us up should be encouraged. To borrow from the Bard, Eat, drink, and be merry. But know where you traditions come from – be proud of your heritage, but know where it hails from. Britain did not start with the Victorian Empire – that is a dark time for our humanity (one of a number), but from a combination of different nations coming together and evolving as a whole. Sound familiar?

And to you my dear reader, I wish you a [Blessed Yule | Happy Christmas | Enjoyable Holiday | Happy Hanukkah | Excellent time off following Eid ] *delete as appropriate

Dear Fatty

(Yes, I know I shamelessly stole the title)

New (academic) year, new challenges. But this year marks a big one and a massive personal challenge for me. If you’re reading my blog, then you’re probably already know about the fun & games I have with Ehlers Danlos Syndrome – TLDR; it’s shit & cramping my style, but this month marks the 1 year anniversary of fracturing my spine and just over a year since my hearing dropped to unworkable levels. Life went on. But without my beloved racing that was an outlet for lots of rage – but now I’m back! Wonkier, in more pain, and with an extensive arse (the image below is my “thinspiration” – a combo of being stationary & evil painkillers has wrecked my weight).

So, with new work challenges I knew that I needed to build in some head space and get back to racing, but with our club now super popular it would be difficult to have a chair set up for my weird & wonky limbs. I’d saved up a percentage and reached out to The 53 Foundation for support – then after completely forgetting I’d contacted them I got an email telling me that they’d love to help me fund the rest of my chair & to go ahead and order it!

As an able bodied peron, the financial layout for going for a run is as simple as some trainers & leggings – an entry level wheelchair is £625 (professioal chairs start at £3k), so this grant was quite literally a game changer.

With my chair winging it’s way to me, I knew I had to pay this kindness forward and whilst I’ll be racing to raise money for the 53 Fondation soon (I promise!), there is one woman who I can’t ignore for my first race.

That’s me in the lurid pink alongside team mates who made sport fun for the first time ever.

That's me in the lurid pink!

At the end of October, to prove I have properly taken leave of my senses, I’ll be participating in the Great South Run (oh the delicious irony!) in my chair supported by my amazing friend Rachel & Mr Geek. Instead of sponsoring me for a big charity, I would be eternally grateful if you would consider making a donation towards Shona’s powerchair GoFundMe. It breaks my heart that this amazing young woman who dedicates herself to helping others in the bendy community has to resort to crowdfunding to get an appropriate chair, but lots of us have been there.

Training starts in earnest now and I’ll be posting updates on how we’re doing (even if that is elongated whining about how much everything hurts!). I’m not aiming for a PB – because Ive never pushed that far, so it will be a PB! I have no aims for elite sport – I simpy want to finish in as few pieces as possible (and have the following week already set aside for bed rest).

Wish me luck!

Why I Let My Daughter Dye Her Hair Pink (and blue and purple)

I’m riding the “bad parent” wave each time we go out this summer. TinyPants starts high school in September and at age 11 has asked for a number of things that I’ve agreed to despite parental tutting. Here’s why:

She’s always had a strong sense of identity and year 6 has contained some big knocks for her. Instead of the last year of primary school being a fanfare of goodbyes, she counted down the days until she could be rid of bitchy cliques & a head teacher that she openly hated (strong words, but she had big boots to fill & did little to endear herself), and then there were SATS.

Since September, everything was building up to these bloody exams. Art, music, creative writing, science – all the things that made TinyPants love school went by the wayside. Maths drills, spellings, & exam papers were the daily grind – after which there were hours of tearful homework.

“Do your best & we’ll be as proud as always” we kept telling her. In the end, she sat in pain for 4 solid days doing her best (she was allowed to get up frequently, but allowed no extra time. Fearful that she wouldn’t finish, she didn’t take breaks. By day 4, she had a roll of physio tape strapped to her). Previous end of year reports have been a joy to read with comments given across the curriculum; this year one page was given with a table highlighted in red for each of the maths & english exams – “did not achieve”. The pass mark is 100, in most she scored 98 & in one 94. No “how I enjoyed my year” comment, but a “how could I have improved in my exams”. In contrast, her sister has a high school report with gold stars for effort & all subjects treated equally.

I was furious. My baby has fought past being born so tiny that she lived in an incubator; she fought apnea; she worked so hard to read (something that didn’t come naturally); she has emotional intelligence to rival most adults; she is a young carer; she has mentally prepared herself to be in daily physical pain & smiles through it; she worked like stink to pass those exams and yet she was deemed insufficient by a margin of 2 marks. She didn’t see how close she was – she saw “failure”. The piece of my mind that I’d like to give Gove, Morgan, & Greening may leave me without a mind. This narrowing of the curriculum and constant testing is stamping out the creative sparks that we’ll need in years to come.

So she asked to rebel, much like getting a statement haircut after a big break up. Step 1 was pink hair and I agreed to dye it for the final day. Step 2 was leaving primary behind – I genuinely feared her going out in a blaze of verbal glory, but she took the high ground and walked out with her head high (mentally flipping the bird as she left). And that was that.

She’s using the summer to find herself & that includes strange hair colours. We’re watching a pre-highschool reinvention of herself & it’s fascinating. She’s ditched the little kid clothes for older, but sensible shirts & jeans. I’m watching me grow up from a distance, but with a lot more self-esteem! Yes, we’ll have to get busy with the Head & Shoulders to remove the colour before school starts (eye roll), but for these 6 weeks the girls are allowed to be their genuine selves, whoever that may be.

We’ve just got back from a week at Disneyland where she asked to ride ALL of the rollercoasters on hoiday. I feel sick letting her put her body through that kind of strain – she’s already in pain most days & her back is a big culprit. Ibuprofen, TENS, & physio tape already feature quite regularly. Now, I could insist that she protect her joints at all costs, but shit, what right do I have to sap the joy from her life? She knows that adult life is going to hurt, but the pair of us are adrenalin junkies. At her age & into my teens I rode the coasters, I rode horses, I cornered so hard on my motorbike I could pick daisies with my teeth. So each time she wanted to go on a gut wrenching ride off Mr Geek went & rode with her.

Did it kill her? No. Ok, near the end of the holiday Mr Geek had to carry her out of bed & she gained wheels just like mum for part of the day as she couldn’t stand. Most days we paced quite well, the day before we’d thrown caution to the wind, but had the “best day evaar”.

Hell, even I rode a coaster – Mr Geek scoped it out and made sure it had head & back supports, I spent the previous day resting, he lifted me in – I screamed for the entire ride (on which my kneecap moved completely out & I pulled out both shoulders) – he lifted me back out & helped me pop things back, soothed the muscle spasms, then I rested for two days. All that pain for just 5 minutes? Yes. Totally worth it for feeling alive for just a while.

TinyPants looks at me and knows what’s coming – right now she wants to live as much life as possible instead of snatching 5 minutes of flying.

So, yes I’m letting her dye her hair far earlier than I ever thought I would, but it’s a small price to pay for the catharsis that its brought her. And as for Beanpole, well there’s no hair dye there – her genuie self blossomed at high school and my meganerd is blossoming into the intellectual fangirl that I expected, but she deserves a post all of her own.

Note: I’ve spoken a lot about pain here – for more info on Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, please read this post.

No Poo for This Curly Girl

My no poo journey has been rather haphazard at times, but I’ve finally fallen into a routine that works for me and with some surprising results. I’ve gone from I’d like healthy hair to it’s all about the curl pattern!

For those of you not used to the terminology, “no poo” means no shampoo – let’s get this straight, this does not mean I don’t wash my hair. If anything, I spend more time cleansing & preening than when I was full soapsuds. It’s just that I’ve changed what I stick in my hair to match what it needs to stay healthy.

Just like eating well, my hair requires a balanced diet & sone gentle encouragement to bounce into it’s natural curl pattern. That diet means not stripping out the natural oils with shampoo leaving it dry & frizzy. Instead I cleanse my hair with conditioner, called “co-washing”. Just like ditching the washing machine, this requires extra effort on my part to scrub & massage my scalp until the conditioner grabs anything that needs to be washed away (having Mr Geek on hand helps avoid dislocated digits). And now for some chemistry! Another big no-no for curlies are non-water soluble silicones as they don’t wash away without sulfate shampoos (did I mention that I don’t do the poo thing?). This means following a strict set of ingredients & squealing with delight when they’re sold in a local supermarket – there’s lists of “curly girl approved” products that range from 79p to +£20 and just because they’re expensive doesn’t mean your hair will love them more. Lots of it is trial & error and as my hair recovers from the torture I put it through my needs change.

Transition to healthy hair takes a long time (like 8 months +), but even after a few short months my curls are happier than I’ve ever seen them. And yes, curls! Not just frizz & waves, but big 2C/3A curls 😌

Er… 2whatnow? Well, curl patterns come in all shapes & sizes from 1a (straight as a ruler), to 4c (kinky ziggly). Prior to using the Curly Girl Method, I had 1c – 2b on a good day.

I’m really lucky to have such an easy transition – lots of people find their hair rebels for a good few weeks, but mine has only objected when I tried a gelatin treatment (that’s another post!). So, for now I’m co-washing with silicone free conditioner once or twice per week, deep conditioning once per week with this lot:

(For reference, the skin active is for my face!!)

A combo of olive oil massaged in with the (un)done and left in a showercap for an hour whilst I bathe – rinse – then 2Tbsp of Apple Cider Vinegar in warm water tipped over & left for a few minutes to remove any build up – rinse – cowash – rinse – squish in a 10p splodge of conditioner (don’t rinse) – squish in Cantu Curl Activator Creme – squish in gel (preferably flaxseed, but usually V05 hard set because my homemade flaxseed invariably goes off) – plop for 30 minutes – diffuse until crunchy – finally Scrunch Out The Crunch! Et Voila! And….. Sleep. In a buff.

Seems like hard work eh? It’s only once a week & a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do (or a guy if you’re Luke Arnold, because we all know he’s secretly plopping those curls).

Whilst he may have my #hairgoals I’m still pleased with my progress. So much so that I even gave myself a DIY deva cut before our holiday! (Again, for those of you not following CG, a deva cut is a haircut where you cut the hair dry by cutting one curl at a time to form a shape that encourages your curls to form well – usually by adding lots of layers).

For the lowdown on the nopoo / Curly Girl terminology, I wrote this post post a while back.

Are you no poo, low poo, or a curly girl? What are your tips for making your hair happy?

The Cult of Curls

A million years ago when I first started trying no poo it was all about being a bit of a hippy and frankly it all failed. But I never really let go of the idea that shampoo was turning me into a fraggle.

I’ve always had incredibly thick & wavy hair and equally not wholly known what to do with it. Even my good hair days were an example of why curling tongs are probably best left for professionals  (also, I’ve been honing the unhinged academic look for some time)

Curling iron & frizz. But, I was celebrating my brain not my hair that day

Most days, my style was best described as “shut up, I can either keep the kids alive & expand my brain OR look like a princess. Not both”.

I love how this photo hides the fact I had just set light to the microwave!

Even so, my long & generally colourful hair was my trade mark. I spent my 20s with it flying free and frizzy or woven into coloured dreadlocks (welcome to early 2000’s punk / nu metal culture).

At their tamest, my dreads were brown & red. My favourites were the black & blue set.

Then I met with dysautonomia and my hair & I parted ways. Literally. No amount of bleach, or braiding, or spiking ever made it thinner, but 6 months of being unable to digest solid food and it came out in clumps. I was never brave enough to rock the skinhead look so I turned to the orthodox Jewish community groups who taught me how to wrap my head in a Tichel and I acquired a whole host of beautiful scarves to adorn my now tufty head.

Two years down the line and solid food is back, albeit not all the time, alongside a constant massive dose of vitamin D and what once was thick & wavy has grown back thicker & curly!

What am I meant to do with this?! (2 months into CG, but unaware silicone had snuck into my conditioner – chemistry lessons kids : pay attention)

So, at a loss of what to do with hair that seemed to be growing out instead of down I rediscovered the no poo thing, this time through the Curly Girl Method. I’ve gone full circle & now jumped down the rabbit hole of curly hair…

This time, instead of baking soda & ACV (apple cider vinegar), I’m opting for “low poo” which means no products containing silicone, washing once per week max, leave in conditioners, and alcohol free gel “casts”. With this method I don’t smell like a chip & my hair is in amazing condition. I’ve also learnt a whole new vocabulary:

Squish to Condish 

The act of conditioning once, then scrunching the ends of your curls with a second conditioner application that you may or may not rinse out. I do, but those with really porous hair may not.

Plopping

I know it’s no poo, but ew! Actually, this is the theory that drying curly hair with a normal towel damages the curl & encourages frizz. Instead, plop your head onto tshirt material or similar to allow the curls to dry whilst coiled close of the head. Some people plop for 20 minutes, whilst others (including me) plop all night.

This is where having worn tichels for months has come in handy as I’m a dab hand at a secure turban! 

Just remember that post-plop the curls won’t be bone dry so you need to give them time to reach full crunch before scrunching.

Curl Activator 

I use Cantu Cream activator, or ahem… ummm… personal lubricant. (That’s a whole other blog post, but trust me it works wonders). It’s basically an extra moisturiser for your curls that encourages them to coil into their natural pattern and stops frizz. Stick it on your newly washed hair before any gel.

Praying Hands

A technique for applying curl cream or gel with flat hands instead of scrunching or raking it through. You also rub hands together first to spread out the goop & put it on more evenly.

Scrunch Out The Crunch #SOTC

So, after you’ve low poo washed your hair, added curl activator, added gel with praying hands, then plopped and diffused / air dried, it’s time to scrunch out the crunch.

Remember in the 80s & 90s when we all had spiral perms and wet look gel? Well as much as we thought we looked the dogs dangley bits, we didn’t. To get rid of that late 80s Minogue look, you need to SOTC.

Kylie wasn’t scrunching out the crunch …

Once your curls have dried to crispy perfection (not a trace of damp left), the gel will have created a “cast”. Now is the time to use your hands, or preferably a tshirt to scrunch each section and break down the gel cast to reveal soft & defined curls.

So, 7 months into low poo and 4 months into using the Curly Girl Method what does my natural hair look like?

When I say natural, the colour isn't included! Although I'm a redhead in my soul.

It looks like I have curls! And “bad” hair days aren’t really a thing anymore.

This works so well with my general health because I have no more fighting with hairbrushes, only need the energy to wash it once each week, and I don’t have to be physically that functional I’m. The morning. Getting ready consists of: take off my scarf, spray a bit of water/conditioner mix into my hair, scrunch it, bobby clip the front & off I go.

You can read more about the official Curly Girl Method here. (Not an advert, but as it’s not my method, you should hear from the originator!).