Hair is super big, and you know why ? Because whenever people go through some kind of nutty catharsis (that they have likely brought upon themselves), they desire dramatic change… See below:
Level 1: Tidy house / Mess house up (Depending on gender)
Level 2: Buy new wardrobe
Level 3: Cut hair
Level 4: Eternal diet / Gym membership
Level 5: Botox entire face
Anyway, someone like me isn’t really big on change, or not immediate change anyway. I like to just leave my hair to naturally tangle/matt/do what it will… and occasionally meld the knots together with a flat iron when I’m feeling fancy #HairstylistsDream
I don’t really take to the idea of paying for a haircut (because new shoes and sometimes food is more important), hence why I went to Foster as a guinea pig to a trainee there… and came out after 3 hours looking like motherfucking Cleopatra:
To no discredit to Foster though ! It’s up for debate whether channeling first century BC style is currently on trend, but a long-lasting salon gloss is always appreciated.
Foster is a beautiful little independent salon with warm wood flooring (and a dog !) that’s a stumble away from Shoreditch High Street station, and better yet – they know their shit. After having my hair lopped off by a zany flame-haired tattoo-covered friend in my bathtub, I wasn’t exactly looking for perfection. But 3 hours of gruelingly high standards of technical work to obtain something close to is what I got ! #EnoughSaid
Clearly there is as much a science to strands of hair on your head as there is to espresso as there is to cooking meth (#TooMuchBreakingBad) – and Foster has definitely got that science right.