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.