And now I look like a boy.

I told the hairdresser I wanted a new look. And that I trusted her. Why? What the hell possessed me. You should never trust anyone with scissors pointing at your head.

On the plus side today is the first day I genuinely do not want to bump into Richard. Not that he would recognise me post follicular massacre.

On the downside the haircut and some suspiciously ginger highlights has robbed me of £90. And then I tipped. Of course I tipped. Every girl tips after a shit haircut.

I’m going to buy a hat tomorrow.  And a coat with a big hood. And possibly a wig. Thank God it’s winter.

Big Love, Evie XXXXX