‘When I Was Blonde I Felt Posh. Pink Was More A Denial About Growing Up’

Morwenna Ferrier’s been through eight different looks in her hair history. But how did they change her personality – and her wardrobe?

Morwenna

by Morwenna Ferrier |
Published on

In an ideal world, we wouldn’t dye our hair. We’d trim it occasionally, but otherwise let it run feral, fringeless and natural. But this is not an ideal world and by and large our natural hair sucks.

A recent – and to me believable survey – suggest that just 10% of us don’t dye our hair. I’d hazard for those aged 30 and under, it’s even less. I, for one, only know three people who don’t dye their hair and I have a lot of friends. Promise.

Why, you may ask? In short, says Bleach Manager Sapphire Lewis, it’s become easier. ‘The foul smells, skin irritation time in the salon have all gone now so a quick fix is a lot more achievable. Some of our clients started off with a small thing like a colour rinse and eventually come in for a full head of bleach with a colour all over. And because dye will fade and bleach can be tinted over clients know that they can always go back to their natural and it's not really that drastic.’

Sapphire says this season’s key hair trends are ‘peach’ and ‘streaking’ – a hidden section of bleach with a super cool colour run through it. She believes it’s all down to model Arvida Bystrom and Pinterest.

I’ve been dying my hair since it stopped being blonde, aged about 13. Dyed hair has always defined me. It’s my tattoo and my shtick. Since then, I’ve moved through highlights and lowlights, red, pink and various shades of brown (which I now refer to as the ‘Hoppen years’). I now sport an accidental dip dye: brown at the roots, orangey at the end, which I top up at home with Bleach’s Tangerine Dream, £5, Boots.

Next week, however, I will be going natural - that is, dying my hair back to its original state aka off-mouse - which is also my take on last week’s MEGATREND: normcore. To commemorate my complete volte face, I decided to go back through my various hair colours to analyse, criticise and dissect what the hell I was up to. N.B. It mostly related to boys. Hi, borderline Trichotemnomania!

1. Blonde

blonde
 

I went to school in the Westcountry, so having long, blonde hair was mandatory. We all wore Shorty’s, sheepskin jackets and pretended to skateboard because that was what you did if were Not From London. I was pretty skinny, too, so looked dead posh even though I’m not. The psychology was fascinating: I liked getting A’s at school, so this was a way of pretending I cared about my looks more than I actually did. In hindsight, being a teenager, God forbid I deviate from the norm. I also rather shamefully suspect I actually wanted to look posher than I was. Still, the ploy worked - I dated an Honourable from Devon for, like, 10 days in 6th form.

2. Red

 

This happened when I went to university. I often refer to it as ‘The Phase’ even though the colour was a well-visited staple for over a decade. The colour was, without doubt, linked to my getting dumped quite early on in my first year. I was feeling sad, and I wanted to really hammer this point home. I was also reacting to my decision to blend in at school – to me, red screamed alternative. I wanted to stand out, appear more exotic than I was. As to why I then pierced my lip, tongue and eyebrow, moved to Italy and starting dressing like a communist – a lot of khaki, gold chains and big black bother boots? Well, who knows? I probably over-exhausted this aesthetic when I (true story) started dating a Romanian homeless rapper without a working visa who I met at a squat. He was actually really nice.

3. Short and Red

 

Honest to God this is how it happened: I woke up one Tuesday morning and realised that if I was ever going to cut my hair off, I had to do it while I was in my early 20s because (actual quote): ‘I could get away with making a huge mistake’. So I did. I made a huge mistake. It was an expensive, huge mistake too – about £120. I think I called it a ‘Pob’ after Victoria Beckham’s, and while it sort of suited me, I looked militant and felt utterly traumatised. If I wore a dress, I looked like a boy in a dress. So I threw out every single dress I owned and wore Breton tops, jeans and pumps exclusively in a bid to look like Jean Seberg. But the camera does not lie. I did not look French and interesting. I looked and felt like a boy in a Breton top and jeans. Luckily for me I had a nice, long-term boyfriend at the time.

4. Browns

 

How (people often ask me) does one grow out short hair? Well I have no idea because I kept cutting bits of it off. Having got it to a strange length - I looked like Chris Noth circa 2005 - I decided to dye my hair several shades of brown and shave in half an undercut. A Hundercut, if you will. I got a professional to do it the first time – S/O to Tommy at Taylor Taylor, Shoreditch - and you know what? I looked OK. One the way home, a rudegirl exiting Argos on Kingsland Road even stopped me in the street to tell me I looked ‘fierce’. Fierce! Fittingly, my wardrobe went very on-trend – a lot of sailor tops, high waisted jeans and big shoulders. I was happy. I looked cooler than I was. This period was fleeting - when it started growing out, I Bic'd the shaved area myself. Hilarity ensued.

5. Pink

 

I mean why not? Why not bleach your non-length hair and rinsing it a shade of Onken strawberry? By now, I had a long bob and I felt far more ladylike. But being anything but, I still felt a strong urge to mix it up. Having been red for so long, the prospect of going norm bothered me and this semi-committed shade of pink felt like a good compromise of grown up and not. I was hurtling towards a freak-out over my age, yes, but god forbid anyone know that. I did it first, professionally, at Daniel Hersheson, and loved it. There’s a very real reason rinses took off among older women – they’re very flattering on most skin tones. Naturally I celebrated this change by bankrupting myself on eBay, buying nine dresses in as many days. I also allowed myself to appear in photographs, wearing it in various, ambitious styles - piling it up like a cheap ice cream or wearing it flicked over to one side. People started copying me, too. When the initial rinse ran out - three weeks - I did it at home with Krazy Kolours from Sally’s and destroyed the white tiling of my mum’s bathroom in the process. I only phased it out because dying your hear every week is exhausting.

Two years ago I returned to red. The mothership. I also kept it long and to be honest, I look back on this two-year period as fairly definitive. That I’m now going back to natural? Well, I feel it’s time. I’m tired of dying my hair, tired of screwing it up and tired of having to sell stuff on eBay to bankroll my look at Aveda. And if anyone accuses me of selling it, well I’ll just say I’m going Normcore. (Read: I’m too old to bother anymore.)

Follow Morwenna on Twitter @morwennastar

This article originally appeared on The Debrief.

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