4 Reasons Changing Your Hair Can Totally Change Your Life

I’ve been going through a lot of major life changes recently. Moving countries, moving cities within that country, and changing careers. But the biggest change of all has been my hair.

Hear me out, because it’s totally not as weird as it sounds.

Whenever I am in a slump, I start to hate everything about myself. And the easiest place to start in a severe bout of self loathing, is my physical appearance. So it needs to change. From getting a pixie cut on the last day of high school, to dying my hair pink after a breakup, to going back to brown for my move to Madrid – changing my hair is always my first course of action when I feel trapped. And you know what? It works. Changing my hair gives me a fresh outlook on life. Because no longer am I that person I hated just last week. My hair is bouncy and full of life and so am I.

Soon I’ll be starting my new job, which just so happens to be my dream job, and I wanted to go into that stage of my life feeling like a totally new and improved Rosy. So after stalking possibly every hairdresser in Brighton on Instagram, I decided to take the plunge. It took four hours and was the most money I’ve ever spent on my hair, but I have no regrets. It’s short. It’s blonde. I don’t resemble the cousin of Cousin It. I am me again.

Here is why I think changing your hair also changes your life!

1) Briefly, You Are A New Person
For a short period of time after a major haircut, whenever you catch your reflection, you get confused. “Why, who is that dashing young person staring at me?” you say. Well, it’s you! Look at you go! For the first few hours after my haircut, whilst I was painstakingly choosing which selfie would debut my hair on Instagram, I got to thinking (dangerous, I know); is this the same Rosy Parrish as yesterday? This one seemed cooler and more confident somehow. And when I was walking down the street I had to wonder, where the passersby marvelling at how cool that short blonde girl looked? Obviously not. But a girl can dream. So for those brief few hours, I was convinced I was a whole new person. That confidence follows you though, and even now, days later – I still secretly think I’m slightly cooler. Fake it ’til you make it, y’know.

2) Symbolism and Shit
Imagine it. You’re sitting in that chair. The hairdresser is behind you, holding a pair of scissors. Closer and closer they go, until… SNIP. Your hair is gone. Bye bye, hair! Bye bye, problems! When I’m running my fingers through the super short bit on the top of my neck, I like to imagine that along with all the tangles and knots and badly dyed locks, went my worries and problems and a few insecurities too. Swept away by the trainee’s broom. And it feels goooood. I mean, a lot of my problems actually disappeared upon the news of my employment, but that would never happen in a transformation movie montage. It was totally the hair.

3) Feed Your Ego
Unless you’ve accidentally dyed your hair green and come out with an allergic reaction too, your friends are probably gonna gush over your hair a little. Even if you think it’s narcissistic and frivolous, you can’t deny that a quick compliment from someone whose opinion you value will make you smile. I’m not saying cut your hair just for the compliments or the Facebook likes. Cut it for you, duh. But like… it’s an added bonus.

4) It Shows You What’s Really Important
Ignoring everything I’ve said above, it really is just hair. And if your haircut hasn’t come out like you imagined, and you’re screaming “dammit Rosy Parrish, you lied to me” at your screen, take a deep breath and remember you’ll always have number four on this list. Although I am loving my haircut this time round, this is a rarity for me, because most of my trips to the hairdresser end in disaster. Whether it’s a lopsided bob or a really bad dye job, the change is not forever. Your hair can grow, or you can cut it. You can dye it. You can straighten it. You can do that super cool topknot thing that I never truly mastered. Although at its best, our hair can make us feel really great, it also doesn’t define us. It’s all what you make of it. It’s just hair.

And with this wisdom, I bid you adieu. If you’re going through a hard time or just need a change, just start with the hair and the rest will follow. I think this is slightly more manageable advice than my usual spiel of ‘moving abroad cures anxiety’. But hey, they both worked for me

Brighton in a Weekend

So as I keep yapping on about, I moved to Brighton at the beginning of the year. But due to lack of money and my general dislike of leaving the house, I haven’t explored as much as I like. I have like 3 friends here. Give me a break. But last weekend my honorary twin sister Orla came to visit from Ireland, so I had no choice but to go full tourist mode. And it was great.
So for your consideration, here is how to do Brighton in a weekend. It works better if you and/or your guest like vegan food and shopping. ‘Cause that’s kind of what Orla and I are all about.

As a side note: my blog photography is pretty dire in this post… it was more of an Instagram Story type weekend than a blog one. But then I realised it would make a great blogpost and I’m stuck with these wonky atrocities. Sorry, Blog Gods.

Friday


Oz came on Friday evening and after some screaming and carrying her suitcase up five flights of stairs, we were ready to EAT. We headed into Kemptown for drinks in what we thought was a typical old man bar, but turned out to be a drag bar. It was the perfect place to show Orla just how, well, Brighton Brighton can be. We then headed to Purezza for dinner. Purezza is a vegan pizzeria and it is AMAZING. Vegan cheese is hard to get right and it was my first time actually trying vegan pizza but I am in love. After demolishing our pizzas, we knew we couldn’t leave without trying more – so we split a vegan orange mocha cake. And guess what? Also delicious! Who said vegans only eat rabbit food?


We finished off the night with some drinks in the South Lanes, where I took Orla to two of my favourites: The Mesmerist and The Marwood. We then parted ways ready for a full day of FUN SIBLING EXPLORING AND BONDING TIMES WOO!
Saturday


On this day we had intended to meet at 10 or something… only to finally meet at like 12. Just another part of the family resemblance. For brunch we decided to hit up VBites, another tasty vegan establishment. I was sad we had missed the breakfast menu, but not for long after I saw they had a falafel wrap on the menu. I got said wrap and an iced green tea (my fave). Orla is more adventurous with her food and tried the vegan duck pancake – but she said it was great and judging by the quality of my falafel, I’m inclined to believe her. We also split some sweet potato fries with garlic mayo because FOOD. In fact, we loved this place so much we came back. More on that later.


We took a walk down the pier for some serious Instagramming (Orla) and Pokémon hunting (me). Then we both literally hunted Pokémon in the arcade. Please note the lack of pictures with any Jigglypuffs. We did not win. After the pier we explored the South Lanes by daylight and did a little window shopping, before heading into Churchill Square for some actual shopping. By this point, we were hungry again so wandered over to Glazed for vegan donuts. VEGAN DONUTS. We were exceedingly lucky because we got the last one and it was so good. But even better than the donut, was the doggy that worked there. His name was Donald and I love him. He wore a bandana. Sadly I didn’t take a picture of the dog as I was too busy being licked so here is Orla modelling our donut.

Suddenly, because BRITAIN, it begain to rain so we ducked into Black Mocha for some caffeine and shelter. I’d been meaning to try this place for a while but wasn’t impressed with my coffee. Other people have told me that it’s actually pretty good so I’m willing to give it another shot, but honestly, meh. Once the rain stopped we darted back to Oz’s hotel (via a quick detour for wine and crackers).

And this is the point I became an idiot. I didn’t book a table. When we did finally emerge from the room, we were starving. We asked about a table at The Curry Leaf and were told it would be an hour. We agreed and off we went to the nearest bar. An hour comes, still no call. After ninety minutes we go to ask. Basically we ended up standing by the door staring at them until we got a table. By this point I was so hungry that I would have eaten anything. Hence the lack of photo. There is no time for Instagram when you reach that level of hunger. I don’t even remember what I ordered, other than I decided “fuck vegan weekend” and ordered a naan bread out of pure starvation. I think it would be unfair to review The Curry Leaf when I probably  would have literally eaten my own shoe at this point, but it was good – just not a patch on my favourite Brighton Indian, Planet India. After this we decided on an early night to prepare ourselves (and our stomachs) for the next day.

Sunday


Sunday started off at my new love, Small Batch Coffee. I picked a vegetarian sausage roll as a snack and got an oat milk latte. I sat waiting patiently for my coffee arrive so I could take a picture of both together, but it took so long I got bored and ate my sausage. Turned out they forgot about me. Luckily they gave me a voucher for a free coffee so who cares? And honestly, that latte was so good I would have come back anyway. I’m just gonna go right ahead and say it, best coffee in Brighton. No, in Britain. NO. THE WORLD.

After a little while exploring the North Lanes and avoiding the rain, we met my friends for a meatless roast at The Prince George. I was so excited for this. And I wish I could say it lived up to its expectations but… THEY FORGOT ABOUT ME. Yes, mere hours after the coffee shop forgetting about me, a restaurant forgot to bring me my food. I think I’m actually cursed, but whatever. Considering my food came when my friends were halfway through with their own, I didn’t take a picture. I just tried to catch up. I think I ordered the wellington. It was good, I guess, but my Yorkshire Pudding was hard as a rock. I’ll definitely go back, but only because I drank the best gin of my life in there and I need to taste its sweet, sweet nectars again. They didn’t offer me a free drink though. Hmmmph.


After lunch we did some more shopping down the North Lanes, but as it was Sunday, things were closing. We headed back to The Mesmerist and had a few more drinks before we got sleepy. Although we swore we wouldn’t eat anything else, we got Subway before leaving because we are ravenous monsters. #NoRegrets

Monday


For our Last Supper (ahem… breakfast), of course we headed back to VBites. This time we were in time for breakfast, so I had the most delicious hummus, spinach, and mushrooms on toast. SO. GOOD. Orla had the same, she agrees. After that it was time to take Orla back to the station. But we did have a little bit of time… so we grabbed some more oat milk lattes from Small Batch before we said our final goodbyes.

I had such a good weekend and am so glad Orla came to visit. I probably never would have gotten around to trying half these places if she’d never come to see me. So thank you, Oz, and I’ll see you in Berlin this August for Round Two.


You can follow Orla’s Twitter and Instagram here because she is much cooler than I.