Relationships are like hair. How, you may ask? It can be summoned up in one simple 'only girls will understand' statement. We always want what we can't have. There's always a number of friends whom you have hair envy of, "oh you've got great hair", to which the vast majority of Irish women will reply, "no I hate my hair, YOU'VE got great hair." (This is, of course, unless they're that rare breed who have actually grown up being complimented every time they boil the kettle, this of course results in them evolving into the type of adult who loves not just everything about themselves physically, but also the very carbon dioxide that they expel.) Let me elaborate...
1) The Long Term Hair
We all know this couple. they've been together for about 9 years despite the fact that they're actually only 23. They met at the local underage drinking event and their love has blossomed. They've survived school, college and holidays together and are now talking marriage (feel free to break into a cold sweat at this point.) They're like the girl with the arse length waterfall of perfect waves that you have always wanted, but will probably never have. Take comfort in the fact that they probably lie awake at night regretting all of the years of shifting and drifting/ riding and sliding that they can never get back.
2) The Shorn Headed Dumpee
See that girl walking around with the butchered looking fluff fluttering on her head? Bet you a fiver that she's just been dumped. The dumpee mourns in a different fashion to the dumper. The dumpee is obviously in a state of complete depression, the world and it's cousin seem to be against them. They can barely be bothered to wash their face in the morning, hair is far behind that in levels of importance. Oh hello trainee hairdresser, butcher me up please. Fuck them all, I'm cutting that bastard out of my hair once and for all. The cold hard reality hits home when you meet your friends and they're expression changes faster than your relationship status. Devvo.
3) The Dyed Dumper
The dumper is the one you can spot about five miles down the road. They got rid of that cheating/ too lovely/ bad shoe wearing man in their lives once and for all and now they're going to celebrate single style. The first and most imperative step in this is getting some horrendous colored streaks in their hair to really scream "I'm out there world." Also, it's just purely coincidental that the word dye sounds just like die, didn't even cross our minds. The best part of this situation is that it only cost you €65 euro. Oh..Bargain? You look....bold... Yes that's the word I was looking for. Now give me the name of that hairdresser so I can never, ever darken their door.
4) The DIY Duo
Everyone knows a couple like this. They're just a bit fucking mad. They probably met on Bebo back in the day and went travelling the world with not a cent to their name. They are the least materialistic people you'll ever meet. His hair looks like she threw a cereal bowl on his head and chopped the rest off with a nail scissors, hers, well he must have been stoned when he tried to neaten those frazzled ends up. They'd rather spend three weeks in a Burmese prison than spend money on a hairdresser. Think of the time you tried to cut your own fringe and mutiply it by a bottle of vodka and you're still a long way off.
5) The High Maintenance Ones
She's six foot tall, minted, orange and sparkles with wealth. He's a man beast (probably plays the 'ruggers' on a professional level.) They met in Everleigh Gardens over a bucket of Jagerbombs and the wallet has suffered ever since. She now gets her hair touched up every three weeks because it'd be "totes mort" if he saw her roots. SHOCKED FACE. A night out must be morked in the calender two weeks previously so she can have her hair blow dried and her can buy three tubs of hair gel. It's ok to hate them. I do.
6) The Low Maintenance Ones
This couple looks at the high maintenance couple and laugh. Then they go home and pass out on the floor. They probably met in the student bar over a pint of fosters. They made an effort for the first two dates. Then all efforts at image perfection were fucked out the window along with the hairbrush. She gets her roots done when they've grown down to her ears and he only gets the chop when his 'fro resembles a sheep. They're too busy having the lols. I'd like to say they're the girl with the effortless bed head hair you envy, but really they just look hungover.
7) The Single Gal Glam
You can nearly always spot the glam single girl in a nightclub by her hair. She's put a good forty five minutes of hard labour into her mane and she's hoping it pays off. It's either poker straight, perfect curls, or extensions that are half her height because she heard the lads love long hair. What's that smell you may ask? It's just a half a can of hairspray, no need to worry, just no naked flames in the vicinity of this single lady please. This is one determined girl on a mission, the rest can only look on in awe at her hair molding abilities, some woman.
8) The Not So Single Gal Glam
You cannot always spot the glam not so single girl in a nightclub by her hair. If, for example, she got ready with her glamorous single friend above, she'll look equally as backcombed and fabulous. If, on the other hand, she's just going out to be the ultimate symbol of a fantastic friend as a great wingwoman, she probably won't look as glam, purely to ensure that the spotlight is firmly on her friend. She's not out to pull, she's out to get her friend a seat on the shifting couches and then she'll creep off home for a spoon. There's a bit of this 'today I could not care less' attitude in all of us sometimes. Embrace it.
9) A Hairy Clash Of All Of The Above
The ultimate test of hair/ relationship envy is seen on a night out. All of the above congregate for a girly night out, each with their own agendas in mind, hair ready to party. Whether single or not, they're out for a good girly night. That is, of course until they all get pissed and the emotions are out in force. "What is wrong with me, WHY DOES NOBODY WANT ME?", "I wish I was single and could properly mingle" and "my boyfriend is a DICK, no drunk texts for him tonight." Soon the two worlds collide as you take turns holding back one another's hairspray induced crunchy hair, five to a cubicle, as one by one you emit the fourteen drinks you've spend your weeks wages on and then the night is over and you can all say "At least we have one another lads, I love you all almost as much as I love these chips." And at the end of the day that's all that really matters. That and great hair.
