A great friend of mine just got hitched in a beautiful castle in Worcestershire. It was covered in amazing art works and suits of armour but I was determined to upstage the venue with her hair.
At first she was going to get a local chick to do it and I was going to have the morning off to spend with my new handsome man getting ready, which was dreadfully sweet of her as I have never attended a wedding without sprucing the brides lock. But then I realised that it would upset me to see someone else’s do on the bride and not see the moment that the father walks in and sheds a tear at his little princess in her gown. So I got involved, and after a trial and a chat, started making a mini wig to put in the back.
My friend is cool and tres beautiful so I could have done a neat little chignon (kinda ethereal) and she would have looked stunning, but why make it easy? So with Eva Mendes as my reference I took to her barnet with the enthusiasm of a stylist at the finals of a world hair championship. I prepped her with a bag full of treatments and under strict instruction to do a masque every other day (were the daily nagging text messages a tad over the top?!). It meant that come said day her hair was so beautifully shiny I could pile on a mountain of tecni art Volume Mousse and blow it out so that it would’ve stayed up until Christmas, while still shining bright. No gloss for me – by the best man’s speech it would have flopped! I blew her cute fringe to the side and teased the top out, coiffing it into a major beehive. The back was folded from one side to the other and at the nape I inserted a little mini wig (Betty we called it) so she had a long pony that came from one side and fell to her waist.
The trouble was I got all sessiony during the photos and styled her with my mini teasing brush every time a gust caught her hair. I must have thought I was on a shoot for Brides magazine. At this point she was probably wishing the local chick had done it!
Luckily new handsome man stole me away and gave me champagne and kisses before my friend called my agent and took me off the job!
The little bridesmaid was the hardest of them all with demands for curls a certain way (at six years old!) I nearly muttered to her “Do you know who I think am?!”
