Dumb Hair for Women

You may remember my post on the prevalence of Dumb Hair in AFL football: http://blurbfromtheburbs.blogspot.com/2005/08/dumb-hair-men-in-sport-are.html and I'm sad to say that us gals are not immune to it either.

In this month's copy of Australian 'marieclaire' magazine is an accompanying booklet with the 150 finalists and winners of the 'L'Oreal Professionel Colour Trophy National Finals 2005.' It was just what I needed for an unexpected but rewarding big belly laugh out loud. For your reading and visual enjoyment, I'll attach a few of my favourites.

Bless her sweet heart. This shy thing should really consider just being brave and showing us all her gazoombahs so that our attention is diverted from the hideous Back-Comb-in-a-Wind-Tunnel that somehow got her hairdresser into the finals. Heaven help us....














And here we have a fringe flick (or should we say 'Flinge Frick') that looks about as natural as Shane Warne's 'Yeah Yeah' new hair. Just imagine having to mousse up the long strands that normally hide your face and hope like hell they stay cemented to your right eyebrow all day.






No wonder this chick's sulky!
You would be too if you fell asleep leaning over the wash basin and your stylist decided to let his panel-beating nephew spray some Torana-red enamel down the side of your noggin.....






This one's just sensational, isn't she? Almost like stoning a cherry and then placing it on top of your head. She doesn't look too thrilled about it though and who can blame her for trying to hold back her tears of dismay? Or are they tears of annoyance as she tires of fending off eager smurfs who mistake her 'do for a potential toadstool home?





It's amazing what you can do with coconut husks and kohl eyeliner these days isn't it












I could have sworn that this one was ripped directly out of the pages of my friend Samantha's Mum's 1976 'Cleo' magazine that we used to read when she was at work.

It's the look that will carry you into that boardroom with confidence, ladies, winning you respect, admiration and a bit part in a porn film.










Is she dismayed, stoned out of her skull or a combination of both? Surely this is taking 'Bowl Cut Bonce' a teensy bit too far? The poor lamb must have had her eyebrows unintentionally ripped out when the hairdresser stuck the tape across them in order to get the fringe cut just right.

She could have saved herself a helluva lot of cash and her eyebrows by just asking my Mum to do it.






I couldn't resist sticking in a male hairstyle finalist as well. What on earth is this - is it supposed to make me swoon with desire; yearn to find out what's behind that wistful look and marvel at the intelligence such a sensual 'do so obviously evokes?

Or should I stick with my instinctive reaction that he had a big night out, fell asleep in his own vomit and is now wondering just where the hell he left his housekeys and why on earth he's now got a big red lemon tattooed on his right buttock....