For the first 16 years of my life, my
mother put in a lot of effort (albeit with a lot of moaning and swearing) in
braiding my hair into two neat long plaits. Every single morning she would
appear magically by my side with the paraphernalia for war against curls, knots
and stubborn daughter. The ruckus that followed would usually send my dad to
dive behind his newspaper and the brother to spout caustic comments. The
disinterest in the plaits was a front, because hey, I had the longest pigtails
in town and I was very proud of them.
Then, I grew up and college beckoned. It
was time to wave goodbye to pigtails and there was only one way around the
problem … the hair had to go. So, one bright summer day, I gathered my savings
and went and got a solid length of my hair chopped off. This did not mean I
went and got a mushroom cut or anything because:
a. I lacked the guts (proprietary mothers are VERY scary creatures)
b. As mentioned earlier, I was secretly quite fond of my plait
Through early morning camps and mad
college schedules, my hair maintained its health and never gave me much
trouble. This was primarily because I never ventured beyond the staid yet
sturdy plait, but was also because my lifestyle then, was pretty much all about
3 very important things – me, me and me. I was reasonably religious about my
hair care routine – massages, washes and the occasional trim. My hair grew at a
respectable rate and most days, we had a happy ending.
Then came the era of what I like to call
temporary insanity.
The colouring, the moving cities and the
total lack of ‘me’ time lead to major hair loss. Long plaits were a thing of
the past. I thought I would end up going bald. Was even contemplating tattoo
designs for my bald pate when Dove saved people who know me from a fate scarierthan bald witch meets Godzilla.
So now that the hair fall had stopped, I
was beginning to have dreams of regaining my rightful title of the local
healthy plait contest winner, when horror struck. I had split ends. Horrible,
ugly curse that made the ends of my hair look like a much abused broom.
Not. Happening. At. All.
Thankfully, there is a Keratin God and I
suspect she goes by the name Dove.
The new Dove Split End Rescue System
with 1/4th moisturising milk claims to bring the split ends together
and give up to 4x less split-ends.
Directions
to use the Dove Split End Rescue Shampoo:
• Apply to wet hair, lather and rinse.
In case of contact with eyes, rinse thoroughly.
• And be logical and follow it with New
Dove Split End Rescue Conditioner (apply to wet hair, rinse thoroughly)
I have been using it for over 2 weeks
now and I am slowly beginning to see the revival of my hair. It makes me feel
all warm and nice to think I would soon be able to go back to what suits me
best – a long, healthy plait…(uhm, just don’t tell my mother I said this
though)
Go on and get yourself the new DoveSplit End Rescue System, long hair or short… healthy hair matters.
