The Fringe. There is no hairstyle more likely to send an involuntary spasm through my body than this (I was a little young for the 80’s poodle perm otherwise I suspect it would have been that). Fringes, just like boyfriend jeans, apparently suit anyone and everyone.
I never thought I would suffer from bun envy. But then there are a lot of things I never thought would happen, becoming a mother being one of them.
Anyway, here I am, sat in the midst of a gaggle of 7 year old girls my eyes turning green at the sight of their perfectly coiffed hair. We are waiting for dance class to begin. I fear that I must have missed the one that included the bun masterclass.
Life of Ryrie 