If nothing else, the turn my life has taken is introducing me to whole new worlds I didn't know before. It is an unchosen adventure, but it is not without its lighter moments.
Yesterday saw the foray into the world of wig-buying. Well, the NHS did the buying (and a scary amount of money it was too when I looked at the price tag afterwards). The shop was one of those delightfully olde worlde places that is located on the fifth floor of a mutli-purpose building in a lane in the centre of town. A lift carries you upwards from ground level and deposits you in a narrow tiled corridor facing a frosted glass door that would look entirely at home in a 1950s film set.
But this is no ordinary lift, it is the old fashioned gated type, complete with jolly, uniformed lift attendant who announces himself as an angel descended from above to escort you on your journey. It must be a strange job, riding up and down all day, waiting between floors for someone to summons you to take them where they wish to go. He must see all manner of people riding upwards to the wig-shop, clutching their NHS vouchers and anxiously wondering what lies beyond the frosted glass door.
So, the wig-shop. Thankfully free of weird and wonderful theatrical oddities, it was far less daunting than I'd feared it might be. The majority of items on display were remarkably ordinary, which was reassuring. No bizarre shapes or colours, just fairly ordinary looking styles in normal colours. Apologies all those who anticipated some wacky session trying on weird wigs, but that was never going to happen, and I'm glad the possibility didn't arise... my inner shy person would have simply crumpled.
Amusingly, the background music was Katrina and the Waves singing Walking on Sunshine and it didn't take too long to find something I felt I could cope with - a bit lighter than my natural colour, parted the other side and with a hint of the Jennifer Aniston's about it, but overall something I'll be comfortable to have a go with.
For someone who has never been bothered with hair and beauty, being thrust into a world of specialist brushes and sprays and goodness knows what else is quite an eye-opener. I can't quite see me emerging the other side of this as fashion-woman (way too many more interesting things to do/be) but I am certainly discovering whole new worlds.
And the divine humour of the self-professed angel and song playing in the background just made me smile.
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And lo! There was with the angel an heavenly host, praising God and singing:
"We're walking on sunshine, yeah yeah!"
And the shepherds said...????
Please tell me you are practising your Mo Mowlam-esque flinging the wig on the table in frustration!