Wrong hair day

I have a selection of wigs. I don’t often keep the old ones, as they get tatty and worn out. Also quite horribly, they also take on a nasty odour of old skin (sorry, but its true)

Ahead of a party we were having at home recently, I decided to try on some choices of wigs, just to see which one I felt like wearing, to go with my little red dress. I guess this is the equivalent of going for a cut and blow for you ladies out there.

I decided on an asymmetrical dark one. Yes, I was happy with this choice.

The rest I packed away. Back in their boxes in the wardrobe. 

Story told. Story over.

Well not quite.

On Monday morning, I did my usual bike ride to work with my hat on of course.  Followed by my walk of shame/pride to the ladies bathrooms near my building. Remember that post?

To my shock, I pulled out the wrong wig. Ooooooooooooooooooo cack!
Oooooooooo double cack! 

That was most definitely not my work wig. That was my party wig!

So what to do?

Well as I am a very practical person, I decided to just get on with my day and wear it.

Luckily, it was a similar length, but oh so different. Luckliy not too crazy but definitely a little more funky that my sensible, conservative work cut.

During the morning, I got a few comments from colleagues, like “oh your hair looks different”. But I smiled and said, yes today it does. Then carried on with my business.

It made me chortle. How silly I felt, but deep down I didn’t care. And you know what, that was good.

I like being a bit different and a tad eccentric.

We all have bad hair days. I just had a wrong hair day!