my lifelong and on-going problems with hairdressers. After my most recent attempts to leave a barbers with a style I had asked for ended in defeat, I found myself in something of a quandary: aside from the mullet I had been left with (and have since removed) my hair had no real style or shape and I was uncertain what to do with it. It was too short, and cut with too little rhyme or reason, to successfully negotiate a parting; the result is too box-like to push forward or push upwards without accidentally resembling Simon Cowell. I considered, as I always do in similar situations, of returning to a number two buzz-cut shave and starting again with my follicle journey but, alas, I realised that glasses wearers such as myself would more than likely end up suffering from "Moby Syndrome" if I had pushed ahead with this plan.
Thankfully, almost on cue, I received some Moroccanoil from The Hut to review, which, ultimately had the potential to save me from the fate of having horrible hair. (To many, having less than stellar hair may not seem so bad but, in the wake of my James Spader-esque head of golden, flowing locks, having seen such riches I'd find it difficult to live with being poor. Metaphorically.) My new plan, with regards to my follicular styling, was to push my hair backwards off my face into a combination of a pseudo-parting and a "slicked back" style (but hopefully with as little "slick" as possible; my disdain for wet-look products is well documented): post-shower, whilst still damp, I was to apply Moroccanoil and see how this would effect the conditioning and hold of my hair to see if this could provide a solution.
I've always been somewhat suspicious of post-wash hair "products" and unfortunately my love affair with Moroccanoil did not kick off on the right foot - as I ran the product through my hair I was alarmed with the greasy look it left behind. Foolishly I had not accounted for the oleaginous properties of a product with "oil" in it's name. Foolish me. Or, as it transpired, foolish me for foolishly believing that I was a fool for thinking Moroccanoil would leave me with a head of greasy hair as, somewhat miraculously, any grease or oily properties that my hair appeared to acquire vanished rather quickly. This was an unexpected, but rather wonderful, development.
As mentioned previously, we got off on the wrong foot did Morrocanoil and I but in hindsight I guess this makes our love affair close to a Jane Austen novel. In this metaphor I would be Elizabeth Bennett and Moroccanoil would be Mr Darcy of course and the themes of this romantic story would, instead of the morality and class-based topics of Austen's book, be about having really nice hair. And, thanks to Morrocanoil, I do. It's a tale as old of time: boy has great hair, boy loses great hair, Moroccanoil arrives and saves the day.
* This product was kindly provided to me by The Hut. It currently retails at £12.85 which, in my eyes, is incredible value!