My Mugshot

Comparing bad passport photos is a great way to pass the time at airport bars. In my case, it’s also an easy way to pick up a free drink or two. Because even though there was never a formal competition to see whose picture is the worst, I somehow always manage to win.

[cincopa AsEA0MuPTk7d]

It’s ironic that the prize for having a bad passport photo is a double serving of hard liquor. After all, that seems to be what got me into this mess in the first place. When my passport first arrived in the mail and I showed it to my nephew’s nanny, she agreed.

“I can’t believe that’s you,” she said, comparing my new passport with the old. “It looks like you became a heavy drug user.” That didn’t seem like an appropriate thing to say in front of children, but I couldn’t exactly disagree with her. In the two years between my passport photos, I had aged considerably.

Not to be outdone, when I showed my ex-boyfriend a few days later, he had an observation of his own. “You look like you’re ten years into a 25-to-life sentence.”

I decided to focus on the bright side of things: I’m the sort of person who blows through a standard ten-page passport every two years, during which I surround myself with people who more or less write my blog posts for me. I’ll drink to that.

[cincopa AoCAGO-rTQgg]

But let’s break that terrible new picture down, shall we? Most people who see it ask the same question: “What happened?”

I’ll tell you: I walked into a Vancouver salon in May 2017, asked if they offer digital rebonding services and booked an appointment for the following day. Things haven’t been the same since.

 

When I first got the treatment done and wrote a post about it, I thought things were bad. My hair was dry and damaged and the cut so uneven that it didn’t even make sense.

But that was just the beginning. In the weeks and months that followed, my hair broke off in bits and pieces seemingly at random. Every time I tucked a stand behind my ear or ran a brush through it, inch-long snips littered the floor. My already jagged edges became all out peaks and valleys – a problem that I tried to hide by pulling my hair  into a pony tail. Turns out that was the worst thing I could have done, as my hair was so weak I gave myself what’s known as “a chemical cut.” If you aren’t familiar with that term, it’s basically what happens when your hair is so damaged that it can’t withstand the force of a scrunchie.

Even now, almost a full year later, my hair hasn’t fully recovered. I spent a small fortune on masques, deep conditioners and leave-in treatments. I have oils and creams and ionic appliances of every kind. I tried specialty vitamins and protein-rich diets and avocado mash. Last month, on the advice of a Pinterest board, I bought a brush made out of boar bristles and a satin pillow case.

None of it works, but some of it helps. A few weeks ago, I had to take my photo again for a residence permit and things are obviously much improved. Then again I also went to a proper photo studio to get the picture taken. I guess that’s another piece of advice I can offer: don’t get your portraits done at a CVS.

[cincopa AwCA_MeWTs6f]

I know I have another few months to go before the last of the damage is snipped off. In the meantime, I haven’t given up hope on finding a miracle product. Enter Coco & Eve Like a Virgin Super Nourishing  Coconut & Fig Hair Masque. After seeing the dramatic before-and-after ads a hundred times on social media, I decided to give it a try. What I wanted was for my hair to stop breaking off inch-by-inch. Since I didn’t think that was possible, I’d settle for ends that look a little less crispy.

First impressions? Coco & Eve smells great, as coconut and figs mixed with flowers usually do. It applies well – not sticky or heavy like some masques are or runny and drippy like a leave-in. When I rinsed it out, I felt an immediate difference. My hair was softer and smoother and not nearly as tangled as it usually is after washing. Johann happened to be around and he gave me what might be the best compliment ever: “It feels like my hair.”

So there you have it: Coco & Eve will give you the hair of a Viking.

 

But does it work? Well – the short answer is yes. My hair feels great and looks a lot healthier, as evidenced by the photos. It’s still damaged and breaks at will, but I’m hopeful that it’s strengthening the portion that wasn’t deep-fried back in Vancouver.

At the same time, all that added softness is actually a little counter-productive. So much of my styling right now is based on illusion. Much like our president, my hair is expertly coifed and folded and sprayed into place so as to hide the worst of my jagged edges. This conditioner makes my hair so smooth that it’s hard to get it to stay put.

The verdict? If your hair is already pretty healthy, then you probably don’t need anything this major. If you like to style your hair or rely on its natural texture, then this might not the right product for you. But if your hair is dry or damaged and in need of some serious therapy, then it might be worth a try.

Then again, for $50, I might have been better off letting nature run its course… and using the money to replace my passport instead.

14 comments to “My Mugshot”
  1. Can I make a suggestion? You also need to feed your hair from the inside, too. I hit menopause with a bang, and my hair started falling out in gobs. I mean, it would just cascade out and down, hitting my shoulders in a steady shower. Terrifying. Tell the doctor, he’d shrug and say, “everyone loses hair…’ BUT NOT LIKE THIS>
    Part of it is a hormonal imbalance. And quite by accident I found a way to correct it, at least somewhat.
    Vitamin D. Not D3, but D2, three pills a day. I think there’s a difference. But after a month of taking this stuff I noticed my hair was no longer sliding down my shoulders and onto the floor. And three months later the texture had changed, and I could see wispy new growth starting up. And as long as I take the stuff, it continues to work.

    The other thing you might want to look into is thyroid. It’s very very hard to get a doctor’s attention about this, they tend to shrug and walk away. Get an endocrinologist on your side, and see if they will check you out for thyroid. That, too, can make a huge difference.

    I know how dreadful it is to have your hair turn on you, and it seems it’s damaged inside AND out.

    I had the same thought about that passport photo, it does indeed look like a mug shot. Look at the bright side. Isn’t it nice to know you DON’T look like that?

    • Eh… I don’t think there’s any underlying nutrition or health problem. It’s just that after years and years of relaxing my hair, I finally pushed too far. It’s not falling out at the root, just breaking off at the ends… a vitamin isn’t going to fix that, unfortunately… though it might help strengthen whatever is growing in. I do take a supplement that includes biotin, but I honestly didn’t notice a difference. Doesn’t hurt though, you’re right. Anyway, glad you found your solution! Keep it up.

        • Hello – YES. I thought I told you this :) So it’s super super curly and I’ve been relaxing for years. Here is a post I wrote all about that: http://www.adviceicouldhaveusedyesterday.com/?p=551 It has a picture or two.

          Are we friends on Facebook? if so, you can look at old photos there – though I’ve been told that I’m unrecognisable, so some people blow right through them and are like, “I didn’t see any that are you!” it might take some effort to figure out which person I am in all the group shots. Same with Instagram – there are a couple that are very old, but everyone looks at them and mistakes me for a friend with dark hair, not the tall, curly haired girl.

          Anyway – I’ve decided to go back to natural. I really love having straight hair, but this past year has been so ugly and frustrating. I’m taking it as a sign that I shouldn’t be dumping chemicals on my head. I’m about 5 months since my last treatment… which is usually the point at which I breakdown and do another. Keep me honest!

  2. Just wanted to tell you: I always look forward to opening my email when I notice a post from you. I may not tell you each and every time, but I love reading them and often share them with friends who I think will enjoy and learn from them. Keep on traveling, learning and sharing with us. Thank you!

    • Hi! thank you so much – that’s so nice to hear. I appreciate it :) I’m glad that my criminally bad passport photos and adventures on frozen lakes are enjoyed. As a fellow blogger, I’m sure you sometimes wonder too: Is anyone out there?? It’s nice to get an answer! So thank you.
      I need to subscribe to your blog… will catch up on it shortly :)

  3. So funny! I hate to tell you, I may crush you in the passport photo competition. Crush, I say!
    And… because I am an infrequent traveler, I will likely live with mine for the full 10 years! I’m killing it!

    Also – should we ever have the opportunity to travel together, You. Are. Welcome. Something about my average American mutt appearance makes me the girl to get pulled to the side for a nice search. Anyone who travels with me, can rest easy knowing they can blow right through security. I’ll see you at the gate.

    Even 10 years into your 15-life sentence, you’re still gorgeous. Go get it!

    • Well, Ms. Greenpants… it’s on. I’ll see your terrible photo and extra security and raise you at least five conversations by 60-something white men who belittle every single thing I say or do while bragging about their own accomplishments without ever once realising that we’re quite literally in the exact same place.

  4. Bad lighting will age you 15 years in a heartbeat, and apparently CVS has the lock on the worst light in the world, because you look nothing like that. You can submit a picture you take yourself now – it might be worth a try next time.

    We got our passports with the (free!) extra pages last time, and we’ve only traveled internationally once since, boooo! I wonder if Customs would notice if I started putting the junior ranger stamps from national parks in my real passport.

    • If bad lighting will age you 15 years, it makes me wonder just how many bulbs CVS had on me. Ha. I did read that you can submit your own photo, which interested me. but I think it still had to be printed, which would have made me go to CVS anyway, so it was kind of a wash. Or so I thought!!
      Thanks for reading… :)

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