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I had long blond hair, washed once a week on Sunday night rapped up with rags, no styling products. The ringlets stay until washed the next Sunday. My granny went through my hair each with a nit comb just in case. You put her hand anywhere near your head and the nit comb came out.

There is a school photo of me at 5, and I look like I have been dragged through a hedge, wind swept ribbon falling out. I was asked why I never said it was school photo day? I never thought and never liked getting my photo taken anyway. The later photos my hair was then put in a ponytail.

I got my hair cut myself in my 20s, the having to dry it in sections and I sweat at the back of my hair was boring. Even then I used to ask if I had my hair permed? The horror made me get it cut shorter.
 
I had long blond hair, washed once a week on Sunday night rapped up with rags, no styling products. The ringlets stay until washed the next Sunday. My granny went through my hair each with a nit comb just in case. You put her hand anywhere near your head and the nit comb came out.

There is a school photo of me at 5, and I look like I have been dragged through a hedge, wind swept ribbon falling out. I was asked why I never said it was school photo day? I never thought and never liked getting my photo taken anyway. The later photos my hair was then put in a ponytail.

I got my hair cut myself in my 20s, the having to dry it in sections and I sweat at the back of my hair was boring. Even then I used to ask if I had my hair permed? The horror made me get it cut shorter.
Oh yes blonde with rags and ringlets, half up half down with a full fringe.
🤔🙄😂
 
My mother had absolutely no patience so we had short hair which was washed on aSaturday tea time, put in those wave grip thingies (bull dog clips with teeth) and made sit in front of the fire (being turned like a rotisserie chicken) until dry at which time the grips came out leaving “lovely” waves. God I hated it all .
And regularly the nit comb came out, paper on her lap, head shoved down and scalp scraped to within an inch of its life. Must have worked as we never had the wee blighters.
 
So many of us went through the same horror hair experiences as children, because I can't remember when we must have got a hairdryer. The usual routine was linament plastered on my chest, liberty bodice, then pyjamas and wet hair drying in front of the coal fire.
 

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