It all started a long long time ago- last Friday, when I finally decided to say goodbye to artificial hair dyes and go natural and use henna. It can't be that difficult I thought, there is a bunch of India shops and herbal hippie new age establishments that are sure to stock it. After all, I used to use it all the time, for body art, and even made money that way one ancient summer (wouldn't you just love to know that story, eh? ). And after all, henna is henna, no?
So I fired up my internets, opened the chat window with my friend, who hennas her waist-long hair for years now, and thought, cheerfully, over my morning coffee- this will be a breeze.
You can guess by now, that this was just the beginning of my troubles. My henna-haired friend informed me, once again, that finding decent henna is next to impossible, that those mostly offered are fakes, and proceeded to crush my enthusiasm.
Oh, I will not be thwarted so easily, I proclaimed, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and attacked internet forums and henna-related websites, ebaying for all it's worth, using domestic sale sites, all in search of the elusive high quality henna. The pure stuff, the Goooood stuff.
"You used to be able to buy it on the market, straight from Turkey, but you can't get it here anymore", said my henna-haired tormentor, "but if you know someone in Bosnia you might have better luck."
A-ha!, I thought. I know a BUNCH of people who are sure to be able to help me. So I asked my work colleagues from the Balkan south, and one of them informed me that yes, she used to henna her hair, and that she could get me some, and send it over my way as soon as someone will be coming on a business trip to my city. But the problem is, she said, they only sell it by 3/4 of a kilo. My henna-haired friend said- get me three boxes.
But me, being me, could never ever wait so long. So on Friday night, I tried dyeing my hair as close to my natural hair colour as possible, proudly proclaiming to my husband- Tonight, you shall see a rare and unusual sight, which nobody has seen since the last century- My real hair colour!
"Cool...", said he, with little faith.
I'll show him, I thought, and slathered even more mousse dye in my hair. But it was difficult to stay serious and determined with a bunch of foam in my hair, and even more difficult to take the dye seriously, due to he previously mentioned fact that it was... brownish foam.
Would you guess it, I didn't show him. Turned out that two applications of the moosey goodness were not enough to kill years of red pigment loged deep inside my hair, so I went to bed, crestfallen, swearing revenge in henna-form, first thing tomorrow.
First thing Saturday morning, I got dressed, in colourful clothes, put my very-colourful hair up, and off I went to town, on the hunt for the elusive BodyArtQuality henna.
It took me 3 hours to find a shop that had it, and after battling a very self- important and rude new-age saleslady (and being almost kicked out of one India-shop by the hipster employee for even daring to ask if they stock henna), I had the two green and red packages in my hands.
And when I finally got home, drizzled upon by the anemic rain , i remembered the lemons. Which I seriously needed for the whole process. And which I had, naturally, forgotten.
Luckily, the shop downstairs had some (which is a miracle in itself really), and after I overpaid them, I pranced back home proudly.
And while the chamomile tea was cooling, and the lemons were getting intimate with some apple vinegar, I mixed up henna and turmeric and red paprika powder,feeling as excited as a puppy...
well, ok, maybe not THIS puppy. She is just slightly puzzled by those new strange scents in our house.
The lovely colourful powders
eventually turned into this, after I added the unholy love triangle of chamomile tea, apple vinegar and lemons.
I'm pretty sure there is some olive oil in there too, which seemed like a good idea at the time.
And then I let it all alone for an hour, circling around it and giving it strange, shifty looks.
An hour and 15 minutes later, I was wrapped in cling-wrap and a stylish turban.
And smelled like a salad. A delicious, pigmented salad.
After that I took a short nap. A five-hour one.
This is going great, I thought when I woke up, I could maybe leave it in even longer, maybe even overnight. Ooohh what glorious colour I could get then!
And then the running started. At first I didn't even notice it, all nice and warm that it was, dripping from the back of my neck,down my back and chest, mossy-green and full of pigments which I knew make pretty marks on the skin. About half a second after that, the second running started, that of me, to the bathroom.
Buggerit! Millenium hand and shrimp! I exclaimed, wiping it off as fast as I could and stuffing tissues up the back of my neck because I had a friend waiting for me downstairs to have coffee. I survived, amazingly stain free, and as soon as my hair was half-dry, I took the first photo:
I knew it would take me three days for the colour to fully develop, which, naturally, didn't stop me from glancing at the mirror every chance I got to see if something changed. Shockingly, it didn't change hues every half an hour.
This is what it looks like tonight, so I suppose this is what I get for my first henna attempt.
You can't really tell the difference, can you?
But I'm not giving up, and you will be informed of my further progress. Though never again in such a great length.Never, ever again...
At least the puppy seems to like it. She tried to eat it several times already.
