"Monika and I have been talking about your hair," Kelly sternly informed me last week. "We were going through Facebook photos and you haven't changed hairstyles in like, five years. You should get a new 'do."

As much as I love the idea of my friends shooting the breeze with idle chit chat about my physical appearance / flaws, they girls had a point. My hair was not only outdated, it was outta control.

I had it cut fairly recently (maybe five weeks ago?), but that was by one of those over-zealous hairdressers who doesn't cut much off the length and helpfully suggests that if it's too long you can just pop in for a quick trim to fix it whenever, knowing full well that a) you wouldn't, and b) they'd probably charge you for it.

I didn't mind so much tho, coz it kinda fell into a passable messy style with an almost emo-length fringe (to my eyebrow! Quick, paint my nails black!) - though hair being hair, it quickly grew out of that impromptu style and got out of control. Hence, the intervention last week from Kelly and Monika.

In a blogging first for me, I'm going for an Extreme Makeover-style big dramatic reveal - click 'more' for the EXCLUSIVE before and after pics. (No refunds.)

Before
I had to document the absolute scruffiness of it all, so I took a pic. A warning though: it's pretty bad. And I also look slightly constipated. (I was trying to keep a straight face and show light concern - the last thing you want to commit to the vaults of cyberspace is a photo of you looking chuffed with hair that would make an ample bird's nest.)


After
Gotta give credit to Chris, Michael's current squeeze and, luckily, kick-ass hairdresser. Decided I was going to do the hair salon thing and surrender my style to the complete control of the hairdresser, so sat down and pretty much said, "Do whatever." And he did. Check it out. And ignore the pose again. It should be painfully obvious by now I don't take good photos.