WARNING: This post features embarrassing images of myself as a teenager. 

Picture this. The year is 2010. Bands like Panic! at the Disco, Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance are at their prime.
The scene was the strongest it had every been. MySpace users were slowly migrating to Tumblr. Outside of Rocking Horse gathered teens after school who would sit around and appear not to talk to each other. They were so cool.

At the ripe age of 15 all I craved was to be one of them. But there was one thing stopping me from ever fitting into that group.

My hair.

For years I had battled with the thick mop that sprouted from my head, spending hours battling the knots more complex than the latest celebrity scandal. And even if I did battle through them all I was left with a frizz ball that could easily be confused as the remains of a cat choking on it’s own fur.

Needless to say I hated my hair.

Equip with a hair straightener that cost $35 from Kmart (GHDs although the dream were out of budget) and a box of Schwarzkopf blue black hair dye I was ready to do anything to appear to be one of the cool kids.

Each morning I subjected my hair to the same treatment a child at a religious conversation camp would face. “Go STRAIGHT” I would yell at in while flat ironing again and again and again.

I never did hang out with the kids outside of rocking horse but fair to say on a day my hair was sitting flat they way I wished it would permanently – I didn’t hate it.  Of course any sign of humidity or rain and my hours of effort were ruined. And more often than not there would be that one strand of hair at the back that I missed that held onto it’s curl.

Fast forward a few years and I discovered “indie” music, festivals and manic panic.  I began to settle on a wavy medium. It wasn’t the dead straight I used to spend hours working on, but it was flat ironed enough to somewhat manage the frizz. I still disliked my hair but a box of bleach and whatever colour dye I picked up at the shops that day would settle that problem.

In fact, it seemed to solve all my problems? Boy breaks your heart? New hair colour.

Failed a class? New hair colour.

Lost your job? New hair colour?

Gossip Girl season 6 was shocking and shouldn’t have been made? New hair colour.

Of course these constant changes were no good for my hair’s health and I was starting to become more appreciative of the thick locks I had been blessed with. They could handle pretty much anything I threw at them.

Fast forward to now and Rocking Horse rarely has anyone sitting outside aside from the occasional tourist looking for anywhere to rest their legs. Full time work somehow has left me more tired than usual and lets be honest, I’ve gotten lazy. More often these days you’ll catch me wearing my hair in it’s natural state.


I saw a recent article on Vogue or some sort of fashion source (or maybe it was Junkee) that told me the perm was coming back in. Haha what fools imagine spending hours setting curls in your hair or spending vast amounts of money changing it from it’s natural state.

What idiot would do that?

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