Scary, spooky title – most deserving of the season. It could have easily been “I don’t wanta be a Fanta girl!”…equally frightening!!!!!
reversecommuter loves the quick investment of $50 for a blowout for an instant pick me up. So imagine the squeal of happiness when a new blowout bar opened out in the ‘burbs, complete with an iPad menu of styles to select from.
The first clue to run should have been when I was told that curls would be my choice, yet still I went forward with faith….
The beauty of a blowout is that a professionally trained hairdresser pampers you and you float out in a hazy happy tressed out trance. The ideal outcome should NOT be hearing a high pitched Fantana Fanta Girl theme song all the while desperately searching for a spot to rinse & repeat to ditch the do!
Lesson learnt, no more horrific hair affairs – reversecommuter is once again pledging allegiance to her stylist.