I was never one of those girls at netball with braids snaking down my skull, like some form of futuristic concubine. I had a sloppy, fat, loose plait, that was either done by mum three minutes before I had to catch the bus ("Mum, TIGHTER! Pull it tight! GOSH!"), or that I'd tried to braid myself but sucked at real bad.
Sometimes my friend, Sarah Parsons, would do it for me, but mostly, i went sans braids.
Point: I still want to know how to braid.
Why: I saw The Coolest Bird yesterday, and she had a fat, fluffy braid sneaking across her fringe, and down behind her ear. She then had a whole jungle of crazy brown curls going on, all cheersing eachother and smiling and commenting on how perfectly formed they were today. It was unreal. I wanted.
What you need to do: Re-embrace the braid. Make it work into your Grown Up Life. Do one going back from the front of your face, starting the part was over near your opposite ear, then lead it along and around as far as you can. Muss up the rest of your mop by using a comb to tease it, then shove it into a messy, kooky little bun. Make sure it looks day old, as though you played netball yesterday, then slept on it.
Am I kidding; braids are for babies: No, I'm not. Okay, know what? If, unlike me, you CAN braid, re-familiarise yourself with braiding this weekend. Just see how it feels. Then get a bit bolder and progress to doing it at work. Girls will be impressed. And boys will lose it when they see your foxy little hair weave. Trust me on this one.
Here's some inspiration:
Also: If you can braid, please TELL ME HOW YOU DO IT.
