I spy with my little eye... mes amis, mes amours, mes cheveux. (my friends, my loves, my hair)

My hair is a recurrent subject on HOB because it is a recurrent subject in my life. The war never ends. Sometimes I win a battle, for example when I cut my own fringe with a razor. Sometime my hair does. I love it, but it clearly hates me, not my fault! 

It's curly (loves humidity, obviously) and refuses to grow (hi untamable baby hair!), but, because I'm a woman, I am a contradiction, we've already established that, which means I refuse to lose my curls. No passaran keratine.

So I developed this little game of mine called "let's try hairdressers all over the world" (remember this post about my experience in Tripoli, Lybia). It took me a while but I found my hair's kindred spirit here in Dubai at Carita (remember here). Now last year was my first summer in Dubai and I literally fried my hair trying to tame the frizziness so I decided this year after all the effort, vitamins and hours spent conscientiously waiting for the masks and oils to work their magic, I thought I'd try to avoid ruining it all by getting some kind of soft treatment. It took me months to actually get to a compromise but one day I finally found the courage to make an appointment to an unknown salon for an "extenso". Little did I know I would actually run out of there with my untamed -oh so natural darling!- hair, looking like Hermione Granger because the manager thought it was a good idea to tell me the said treatment would make my hair "die inside". Probably a good thing he didn't sign up for a diplomatic carrier. So here I am, on the street with my distraught hair, feeling like I want a cuddle from my favourite hairdresser. When I got there she offered to do the treatment and because she is good at what she does, she left the product on my head only 15min as opposed to the 1hour usually required. 

The result? Curls but no frizziness. I can now dance all night without worrying about having to pull out a Jackson 5 look. Hair 0 / HOB 1.