Pursuit of Prettiness: It's A Hair Mare

I’ve not done a Pursuit of Prettiness post in a while, so here’s a big’un. This year, as most of you probably know, I’ve been struggling with an eating disorder and all it’s effects. As much as everything seemed to go horribly wrong, one of the little things that really got to me was how much hair I lost.

Ew. I know, right? I sound like an old man- except i'm a girl and balding at 18!

The lack of nutrition in my body meant that my hair was the last of my worries and, thus, became brittle and started breaking off, while no more grew. I was repeatedly asked if I’d cut my hair, but it had just all fallen out, sometimes in clumps. I’ve seen tweets from girls needlessly seeking to lose weight saying things like “the worse part about losing weight is losing your boobs” to which every bone in my body longs to reply “wait until you lose your hair…”

The great phrase: ‘you don’t realise what you have until it’s gone’ seems applicable here (not in a dramatic sense). I took my long, soft honey blonde hair for granted for all those years. I never had thick, glossy locks but I had beachy waves on holiday and my hair went nice and golden in the sun. It suited me so much more than the bleached, dry straggles that have hung from my scalp for the best part of a year. I feel so ugly without my long hair.

In March, as I started to gain the weight that is making me look so very repugnant at present, I decided to go for the chop. I headed to Cobella in Selfridges and had my shoulder length hair cut into a swishy bob. At first I loved it, but it really didn’t take long for the novelty to wear off. I WANT MY HAIR BACK.

So this P.O.P post is dedicated to those looking to grow their hair, either as part of recovery from an eating disorder, or just because you too have made the decision to cut off your hair without fully considering it.

Here are my tips for sustaining hair growth that, so far, have worked for me. It looks like these tips are working, so please do let me know if you have any others!

EAT WELL

It’s such an obvious one but starving your body of the nutrients it needs immediately affects your hair, skin and nails. You really need to nourish your hair from the inside out. Protein is crucial, think nuts, fish and eggs. A healthy diet will show in your overall appearance, regardless of your weight.

SCALP MASSAGE

This is a little tip I got from my friend Harriet (an annoyingly gorgeous budding beauty journalist with a fantastic little blog here) for which I am eternally grateful! I have only been doing it for just over a week but have immediately noticed a difference to the volume and strength of my hair. Massaging your scalp for around 3-5 minutes a day makes a world of difference. Just massage your scalp gently as you condition your hair and it shall stimulate the growth of the hair. It also feels pretty darn nice. I like to treat myself to Bumble & Bumble Mending Masque which I put on, massage my scalp for around five minutes (bit of a bicep workout to be honest!) then leave the masque for a further 10 minutes. My hair is soft, glossy and looks so much healthier as a result.

SEA KELP

Another little tip from the lovely Harriet. Supposedly sea kelp tablets (which you can buy from Holland and Barrett- in the penny sale just now!) help promote the healthy growth of hair. There is, as of yet, no scientific proof of this but seaweed is iron-rich and therefore sure to be beneficial. It should take a while for me to see the results, but I shall let you know if this really does work. Harriet says she’s noticed a difference in her hair and has had it recommended to her by a few friends so I’d definitely suggest giving it a try.

BLOW DRY HAIR STRAIGHT 

Rather than ironing your hair every day, as I used to do, try blow drying it straight with a ceramic barrel brush, using a heat protector product to keep the condition (my favourite heat protector is the GHD one but i'm not fussy!)

MOROCCAN OIL 

I have heard great things about Moroccan Oil for assisting hair growth. I personally have not tried the Morroccanoil brand, but am very keen to. I actually use Keihls Argan Oil on the ends of my hair to keep it smooth. It is a weekly treat for my hair and I have started to massage my scalp with a few drops of Argan oil as well as applying a little to the midlengths and ends of my hair. It does promote strength of hair as well as length and there is very little better for your hair! Just don’t overdo the hair oil as fine hair is more prone to greasiness.

Hopefully you have found these tips reasonably helpful and please do let me know any more tips you may have on hair growth (recovery or not!) as I’m all ears! I’ll let you know how my hair progresses… As I’m sure you’re riveted. 

Baby Steps

I wrote this piece, again, as a possible personal reflection article for theVogue Talent Contest, and felt there may be some of you who would be interested. Hope you enjoy, and hope it gets you thinking.

There are defining moments in life. Those little events that change everything, be that for the better or for the worse. For some it could be exam results, for others a first kiss. For some people, though, defining moments in life become worthless, and instead they live a life overshadowed by their mind.

The taboo of mental illness is one that has plagued society for so long. It is their own fault, say unknowing cynics. Self indulgent, say others. These comments, cruel and narrow minded, just add to the softness of the topic. No one wants to talk about it, because it is difficult to understand until you have witnessed it first hand.

Anorexia is the mental illness with the highest death rate, yet so few people actually understand it as such. “Eat a pie!” they cry, as if buttery pastry will block out the vicious voice within. What we do not realise is that this crippling illness destroys the mind as much as it does the body. It tears apart families and scrunches up potential, all in the pursuit of warped beauty.

Nowadays there is a wealth of writing about eating disorders. It ranges from seemingly innocuous comments about skinny models, to full reports examining the effect of the media on body image, but rarely is this writing sympathetic to the emotional turmoil that a sufferer faces. We hear of the deaths, the dark physical effects of malnutrition, but we do not scratch the surface of this maddening condition.

I did not, until I slipped into an obsessive cycle of skipping meals and pushing my body to its limit. Substantial meals would immediately be expelled from my body to avoid the incessant guilt, and I would wear my protruding ribcage like a trophy as I deteriorated into a childlike state of fragility. So far, so standard, and with each pound that dropped off, I became increasingly unbearable.

This is not merely a record of how it felt to live each day ruled by hunger. This is not a sob story, or a generic attack on fashion magazines; this is an empathetic account of anorexia, just as I try to escape its clutches.

Breathlessly pounding the treadmill days before my leavers dance, I glanced in the mirror. The thinnest in the hall, pointed elbows and sinewy arms, I would finish these forty minutes and then it would not matter that I had eaten ten grams more cereal than usual. I would walk back from the gym, before writing a blog post and completing my hundred crunches. “It will stop in a few days,” I told myself, “just once prom is over.”

Hair done, and just an hour before the dance, I began my make-up. A mask of foundation to hide my blemished skin and swirls of blusher to add the colour that starvation drained, I then unsuccessfully attempted to apply my false eyelashes and broke down. I sobbed, useless and ugly, longing to scream. Too much pressure and stress, I presumed, avoiding the blatantly obvious fact that this frustration was nothing but hunger.

The elegant Max Azria dress was bought months in advance and it fit beautifully, softly shaping my waist. Minutes before leaving, I carefully zipped it up, thrilled as it gaped at my hollow chest. This disturbing thrill should have been enough to make me stop but, of course, anorexia was ingrained in my mind and anything resembling common sense was gone. At the leavers dance I just drank, and did not eat, before avoiding an after party and retiring to my bed.

It should have stopped there, simple as that, but it did not. I ate less and less before being admitted to a specialist doctor for psychotherapy. I sat on the torn sofas, waiting to say all the right things and trick them into thinking I was fine, and then I saw the patients. A girl, younger than myself, hobbled past, leaning on a walking stick. Her matchstick legs looked ready to collapse as the veins throbbed on her hands and feet. Her head down, her expression was of heart-breaking misery. I felt sick. Another passed, her leggings gaping, clumps of her hair missing as she shivered, clinging to a cup of black coffee. These women had become manifestations of the demons that ruled their life and I could not bear to live my life in the same vain.

An eating disorder is all pervading. Every day I count myself lucky that I am working towards recovery. These girls, fading away, are no longer themselves, they are defined by an illness with no cure. If they do not want to recover, they wont.  It is a poignant, heart-breaking thought, but there is more to anorexia than wanting to be skinny. 

EDAW2012

Yes, yes I know it's fashion week, and that is utmost in my mind, but this week, as you may be aware, is also the national eating disorder awareness week. This is something quite close to my heart, and I just thought I would write a little something.

Just a few days before fashion week, a hilarious video went viral and had fashion folk in hysterics. With witty observations and mocking comments, the amazing "Sh*t Fashion Girls Say", starring fashionista P'Trique and his industry musings, gained a cult following and had even the most severe of fashion's elite cracking a smile. A sequel followed, and the latest video is a based on P'Trique at New York Fashion Week, every bit as #totesamaze as the first.

While the videos are comic genius based on some of the truly ludicrous comments by "fashion" people, some of them are worryingly accurate and say a lot about the state of the industry. Sitting front row, P'Trique quips: "Oh my god, she's so skinny... I love it!". While the sane among us would laugh at the idiocy of this comment, it is sadly not that far from the truth. Stereotypical and stupid though it may seem, fashion is still obsessed with a childlike state of skinniness.

It is a very difficult topic to address. It is undeniable that beautiful clothes do look better on skinny models, which is all well and good when you are naturally built like a ballerina, but when you are not so lucky, it becomes very difficult to achieve that body shape. It also becomes destructive and dangerous.

I am not for one second suggesting that every single model is anorexic or bulimic. There is no way it could be possible. Most are simply naturally slender and control what they eat to keep their slight frame. However, if you are naturally a size twelve, and strive to achieve Natasha Poly-esque proportions, it is likely you will be doing your body irreversible harm.

I shall still jump to fashion's defence on this one, though, as I know that the number of young girls across the world who suffer from eating disorders are not so fickle as to look at a skinny model and go "WOW I want to be that thin, i'm going to stop eating." There is much more to it than that, and the fashion industry is not to blame, just a contributing factor.

It doesn't help that some people in fashion feel the need to fulfil that "Devil Wears Prada" stereotype of "I don't eat. I live on coffee and cigarettes." It is, quite frankly, pathetic. The fashion industry is based primarily on the artistry and the beauty behind clothes, not on the skinniness of the editor. Hearing comments, as I have in the past, like "you can never be too skinny" infuriate me, and above all terrify me. I have watched a desperately ill girl limp past me, her legs so frail they can hardly carry her miniscule weight, I have seen women in their late twenties who weigh less than a child. From these heartbreaking images, I can safely say you CAN be too skinny.

Beat Eating Disorder Awareness Week strives to increase understanding of eating disorders. I know how easy it is to shrug it off, but what most do not realise is that anorexia, and increasingly bulimia, are demonic mental illnesses that are so hard to cure. The worse an eating disorder gets, the more it takes hold and it soon defines the sufferer. Anorexia changes a person, they become introverted, obsessed with food, vulnerable and often angry. This is not glamourous and it is not beautiful- it is truly devastating. Often, as much as the sufferer wants to change, they can not, as the guilt is too much to deal with. There are anorexics who have suffered from the age of sixteen into their late thirties. Their bones are brittle, their hearts are weak and they live a life defined by their eating disorder.

So many people have little sympathy, and disregard anorexia as self-inflicted, but society does not help. It takes a great deal of strength to fight the illness, and if people were more aware of how it can take hold so unexpectedly and completely destroy a person, they might acknowledge how being severely underweight is the opposite of glamourous, it is fatal.

Now, this isn't an appeal for plus sized models to replace beauties like Lindsey Wixson on the catwalk, or for Lagerfeld to stop with his incessant moaning about "fat"people, it is just an appeal for fashion to see sense and stop with this dated and pathetic notion that you can not be fashionable unless you are thin.

Read more about eating disorder awareness week here.