Bad hair daze

From the moment I was born I knew what it was like to suffer a bad hair day (I sported a goofy cow lick on the top of my almost naked head, and nothing else).  Every day was a bad hair day for me,  many being immortalised in time through the wonders of the Annual School Photo. Who was this poor child who had wispy hair that poked out in all directions (mostly bent along the shaft at 90 degrees to her scalp)? More to the point, which adults were failing in their duty of care by permitting her to be photographed in such a state that would surely haunt her for the remainder of time?

Here I am, at the age of 51, still dealing with the ongoing frustrations – the combined effects of genetics and hormones - of bad hair.

I have very fine, very thin, and very straight hair. Combine this with the dodgy mix of hormones that I was dished up with and I also have lank, greasy hair that requires a daily sudsing to keep the oil slick at bay. When I wake up each morning my hair not only looks like I’ve been dragged through a hedge backwards (twice!), but is also coated in sebum enough to fill a deep fryer.

I guess you learn to live with what you have. You learn that you’ll never be able to wear your hair anything other than short (though darn it! It doesn’t stop you trying). And you develop tactics. You avoid staying overnight anywhere that you’re likely to be sprung before you’ve had a chance to retreat to the bathroom and restore order. When you go camping you wear a hooded sweatshirt to the toilet block each morning. And you develop a a yearning to find the perfect hat .

But it feels more akin to love unrequited because, you see, as well as challenges with my hair I’ve also got problems with my head. Hhmm. Yes. I have a very SMALL head – much smaller than the norm for an adult woman.

Thin, fine, short hair + small skull = PINHEAD.

So the challenge increases – it’s no longer just about how to disguise the hair, but how to enhance the head too! Now Mr Knitterly Notions says that a paper bag would do the job nicely, but me, well I’m still on the trail of the ultimate in flattering headwear for pinheads. 

Remember too, that they generally only make children’s hats for child sized heads like mine - but I need a grown up’s style of hat, not a school boater or a baby’s bonnet!  I did find one hat that I loved – made by Wild Trout Downunder – a 1920s cloche style, asymmetrical, with a flared brim that added the illusion of fullness. But, while the maker trimmed it down to size for me, and added grosgrain ribbons to pull in the crown closer to my scalp, there is still so much air-space between the hat & I that my head just rattles around inside it. There’s this very strange phenomenon that arises when I turn my head to the side: the hat stays looking straight ahead (and could surely lead to some confusion about which way I’m facing?).

Knitted hats are, in the main, a non-starter. The last thing a pinhead needs is a head hugging beanie. I recently tried knitting up the  Chullo earflap hat that comes free on the reverse of the Iona  ballband, but even my most beautiful of mannequins looks dorky wearing the finished thing, so I knew there was no hope for me. Then there’s the felted knitted options, but they can look a bit daggy and unsophisticated. I’ve also tried those head wrap thingeys often found for sale at folk festivals – they’re a multi-dyed cotton knit that you twist & place like a turban. They add a bit of bulk, and the wider ones conveniently cover the hair. But that just frightened all my nearest & dearest, as they said it looked like I’d just come home from the chemotherapy ward.

Then finally, after many years of looking, this week I found an old wooden hat block & stand in MY HEAD SIZE. At a realistic price too. I’ve dabbled enough in felting to know that I can at least give it a go, have armed myself with Chad Alice Hagen’s ‘Fabulous Felt Hats’ and, just maybe, will find of my own making, that elusive headpiece for which I yearn.

Ah. But then another problem presents itself.  Those of you who suffer the same follicular problems as I will probably know it all too well. Whilst you may spend time each morning trying to incorporate as much air into the little hair you have  - just to encourage the teensiest bit of ‘lift’ and ‘body’ – as soon as you put a hat on your head your hair will be in trauma from the weight placed upon it. Glued to the skull. Flat as a tack.  It means you can then never take the hat off. At least not until you reach the safety of behind your own bedroom door again.

Flat out like a lizard drinking

Early yesterday I put up a special Subscriber Sale page on our website, dashed off the special link in an email to all our subscribers, and then……………wow! I have hardly had a chance to draw breath since.

What is it about a yarn sale that has otherwise sensible people going crazy to add to their stash? Okay, so it does help that they’re Colinette yarns that are on sale, and it also helps that some of our lines are going out the door at 50% off. Then there’s also the question of not knowing who you’re competing against during a selective internet sale. Who else has their eye on those particular 8 sale hanks that you’re looking at? Better click the ‘Buy Now’ button so you get in first!

We’ve reached the stage where Colinette have been producing so many new yarns and colourways in recent months that our storage space has been seriously compromised. So, much as I hate doing it, I decided that a couple of the yarns that are least in demand these days would have to go. Whilst we won’t be holding Isis and Zanziba in regular stock again for the foreseeable future, we’re still able to source them for our customers as special orders.  Also out the door are Graffiti and Shimmer 5, plus a couple of colourways in Enigma, Point Five and Tagliatelli.

We also went through the stock finding orphans, seconds and other odds & sods, so subscribers were getting, for example, bargain priced hanks of JitterBug because the hank label had been lost.

Anyway, I must get this truck-load of orders out to the Post Office now, and get back here to pack the next batch which is scattered on the floor around me. Yet there’s still a few more kilos up for grabs.

Yes, I’m flat out like a lizard drinking.