My plaiting has come on a treat since I had children. When I was in my late teens I had quite ridiculously long hair, not quite long enough to sit on, but not far off either, but all I could ever manage to do to myself were plain plaits and Little House on the Prairie style braids (this being in the pre-Frozen days when Anna was not available as a point of reference). Part of it was trying to figure out what was going on on the back of my head without being able to see it, and part of it was that my hair is straight to the point of being ridiculous and escapes from any attempted hairstyle within mere moments.
But now I’m getting my chance to up my game. Kitty’s hair is long and straight, but fine enough that we can persuade it into plaits and it actually stays there. She’s also mildly obsessed with having a different hairstyle every Wednesday as a marker for the day that I take her to school (Daddy’s skills being still at the “ponytail actually in the middle of your head” sort of stage – which is understandable when the longest hair you’ve ever had was 90’s David Beckham bangs).
Thanks to Kitty I’ve learnt fishtail braids and Dutch braids and got a lot better at French braids but she’s clearly decided that we needed to up our game, because when we were at the library last weekend she spotted The Braid Book, and she and I spent an entire ice-cream date discussion which plaits we liked and which would work, and which I thought I could have a stab at.
My best effort so far was actually Wednesday’s school hair (which is why there are no photos of it because she was in uniform) but she had a deep side parting and a dutch braid that started on the other side of her head, wrapped around her crown and wiggled down the back of her neck and it looked fabulous.
But to ease me in on the Sunday morning she picked the one on the cover, which is actually incredibly simple. Bunches, plaited normally, and spun up into little knots and hairbinned in place as if a hurricane were approaching. On me it would look a little bit too Princess Leia tribute act, but on Kitty it actually looked adorably sweet.
She was thrilled with it, at least to start with, hopping up and down to see in the mirror, and twirling in the garden to get the very best reflection in our windows.
In fact the only reason that the knots came tumbling down, was when she realised that she couldn’t have a funky hairdo and suck her thumb and curl her hair at the same time. It’s Kitty’s big comfort, even now, and it meant that the plaits had to go; well one of them anyway, and she pottered around the house for several hours with one bun up and one bun down.
And what of Miss Elma, she who believes that there is nothing that her sister can do that she cannot, and there is nothing that her sister has that she should not? How do you explain to a three year old that she can’t have the same hairdo, or really any out of the book, because there just isn’t enough hair in her chin length bob when her only answer to your explanation is a confident reassurance that you can do it, with the underlying metal that you will.
Well, I improvised!
They don’t look exactly like Kitty’s, but they were good enough to satisfy Elma’s inherent sense of justice, and that’s good enough for me!
Joining Katie at Mummy Daddy Me for The Ordinary Moments