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Pantene Bitches

My new phrase of choice is "holy crap on a stick", and that is what I yelled just now as I slammed down the phone. To hell with the dirty looks from co-workers. You'll be happy to know my existential crisis is over, I bet you didn't even notice I'd had one, so now I am back to my usual brand of silly low brow blogging on groundbreaking issues such as the one i am about to address now: HAIRDRESSERS.

I wrote about Andrew about a month ago, but deleted the post after a mini-crisis in which I panicked, thinking my rantings about his adorably camp stylings, Jennifer Lopez jokes, and how he transformed me from shaggy red dog to blonde-streaked goddess, would have made you all think I'm very shallow and self-absorbed and prone to stereotyping homosexuals. But I am over that crisis now, and have come to terms with my lack of depth.

Anyway, it was only by chance that Andrew came to cut my strawberry locks, and it was two hours of magic that I'll never forget. Ever since I have positively glowed, I've felt hot and sassy, every day I've felt like one of those chicks on the shampoo ads (I call them Pantene Bitches), I was showered with compliments, even from the stickfigure receptionists at the gym (I call them Gym Bitches) and asked constantly, Darling! Who does your hair?

Today I was daydreaming idly of our next tryst when the phone rang. It was one of the blonde twits from the salon (Salon Bitches) telling me that Andrew had left and would I like to change my appointment to another stylist?

"Andrew has left? Andrew has left? He can't leave! Why did he leave? Why didn't he tell me?"

"It just wasn't working out for him," cooed Salon Bitch. "I don't think he felt comfortable here."

Comfortable my ass! I'm sure the transition from chopping Keanu's raven locks on The Matrix 2 set to surburban Canberra salon was a bit of a come down, but sweet lord! Didn't I mean anything to him? How could he be so cold!

"Did he say where he was going?"

"He isn't going to another salon. He's not doing anything."

Pah! Pah, I say. As if they'd tell me where he'd gone and risk losing my custom.

"So do you want to keep your appointment? We have plenty of other stylists"

"I don't want to talk about it right now. Just leave me alone!" I may or may not have tearfully said.

I feel so used. Empty. Unkempt. Dirty, and not in the good way. What am I supposed to do now? Where do I go? How the hell do you find a decent hairdresser in Canberra? Does anyone out there actually live in Canberra? Do you have hair? Tell me where I should go, before I end up with a Narelle or a Kylie or a Sharon hacking away at my locks in a suburban hell hole with pink vinyl seats and blue rinses. I have to be a Pantene Bitch again.

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About Shauna Reid

Ahoy there! I’m an author, copywriter and old school blogger. I love telling stories about life and helping my clients to tell theirs. Find out more about me and how we can work together.


2 thoughts on “Pantene Bitches

  1. Hi,
    i am 13 yrs old and i want to say that oh man pantene is the crappiest shampoo ever! i was blow drying my hair and i was brushing my hair i realized that something was wrong with my hair and i called my mom and she said it was build up! you know when you don’t rinse your hair properly and you still have shampoo in you hair. And my hair dresser said that they put this icky stuff in your hair that makes it all frizzy. So you can be stupid idiot and use that shampoo or be smart like me and not use it. And dont believe everything you hear on commericials about pantene
    From
    Stefanie

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