No hippychick, no hip hip hip hip hip

Last night, my hairdresser, Robert, re-introduced me to a long-lost friend. While gently pulling my long hair in the air with his left hand and holding a brush in his right, he said:

"Hair . . . brush. Brush . . . hair."

I find a modicum of relief in the fact that gorgeous, famous, wealthy chicks (i.e., the Olsens) -- with stylists forever at their sides -- also appear to suffer from this same ailment except that, with them, this messy style is a) clearly intentional and b) in line with their hippie chick appearance.


Photo from Olsens Anonymous.

As much as I would prefer looking like a gypsy than a management consultant, I think I need to get to know my brush a little better. Maybe I'll take it to lunch or possibly out for cocktails later. Who knows where this could lead?

I certainly don't want to be the area's front runner on this fashion trend.