Opinion

Anita Robinson: Traumatised after leaving my life as a redhead on the salon floor

Anita Robinson
Anita Robinson Anita Robinson

I went under the scissors last week and emerged elegantly coiffed but utterly traumatised, having left my life as a redhead on the salon floor.

Joining the Silver Circle is worse for us gingers who’ve stood out in a crowd all our lives – but it was time. Anno domini and repeated application of chemicals to my scalp have probably addled my brain. Response from family and friends has been cautious, non-committal, but mostly shocked. You can gauge people’s reaction by their degree of gobsmackery – one, two, maybe three seconds of silence before they say, “You look marvellous!” or “It suits you,” but mostly, “Omigawd!”

I look in the mirror crooning mournfully to myself my mother’s lugubrious party-piece, “Oft in the stilly night, ere slumber’s chains have bound me, fond mem’ries bring the light of other hair around me.” Now I have two choices. Shall I become a sweet little old silver-haired lady? Or a stubborn and bossy old battleaxe? I suspect the latter might be more fun – but I’ve always liked to be liked. Time will tell.

What Covid-19 has given us is monotony of days and more than enough time for self-reflective study, which is not always comfortable or helpful. I have to look at the top of a newspaper to remind myself what day of the week, let alone what date it is. I’ve developed an addiction to news, which only depresses me and confirms my opinion that we’re all going to hell in a handcart. I argue aloud with the television and shout at the radio. I want to kill people who talk only in clichés, or start sentences with “So….” and audibly correct those who use bad grammar. Apropos of nothing, why does television always portray the anonymous elderly in camera close-ups of knotted, vein-y, arthritic hands, swollen ankles and terrible shuffly shoes?

What life lessons have we learned from lockdown? Here’s a random selection of mine.

1. Jamie’s 30 Minute Meals cannot be made in half an hour without the assistance of three invisible skivvies – one for peeling and chopping, two for clearing up the subsequent mess and washing multiple appliances.

2. For a small, single, short-armed woman, changing a kingsize duvet cover is a logistical task more time and energy-consuming than hoovering an entire house.

3. In three months, the price of anti-bacterial products has rocketed. After buying every grease and grime-busting germ-repellent chemical product, I’ve discovered that white vinegar cleans and disinfects everything – and kills garden weeds to boot. Who knew? Of course, you may prefer your house to be florally fragrant rather than smelling like a chip-shop.

4. And finally – never, ever, no matter how tempted, buy shoes online.

On a more positive and cheerful note, I’ve discovered the joy of small things – unexpected calls from friends I’ve shamefully neglected, the spontaneous and unsolicited kindness of strangers, the courtesy, patience and good humour of shop staff, taxi-drivers and delivery men. The innate decency of ordinary people restores one’s faith in humanity. So many of us have been on the ‘low-spirited to stir-crazy’ spectrum during this enforced seclusion. Hard times stoically borne, mostly without complaint – from the older generation at least.

Postwar baby-boomers like me may recall the high moral tone of the storybooks we boys and girls were given in our formative years. Their young heroes and heroines, from ‘Little Women’ to ‘The Famous Five’ were selflessly kind, respectful, courageous, compassionate and cheerful, even in the face of adversity and privation – qualities our parents hoped we’d assimilate. The notion that we must all be willing to make sacrifices for the greater good doesn’t impinge much on the ‘me’ generation today, brought up on more liberal principles, (sometimes so loose as to constitute license) to believe they’re the centre of their own universe.

With the relaxation of some sanctions our collective spirits have risen. There’s a temporary sense of euphoria – but people are getting restless, the young getting reckless. Let us proceed with caution. The light at the end of the tunnel may merely be that of a rapidly returning train.