Not many people can say they have literally come back from the dead. I can.

If you click the sentence above I may not (but probably will) tell you all about it....

Ok, not my entire body. Just my hair. But my hair has literally come back from the dead. I even had a funeral for it last year. I played songs from Hairspray and hired professional dancers to attend and they shaved their heads in respect and did the contemporary So You Think You Can Dance post-modern style of dancing where there was lots of creepy/sombre crawling and rolling along the ground. We threw locks of hair off a bridge and watched them falling onto passing cars.

Haha! That mental image really entertained me! Did it entertain you also? Or am I the only one who gets satisfaction from my hilarity? No, but all jokes aside, there is nothing funny about dead hair. Although, my housemate (nurse therefore Wise Woman about body issues) told me last night that all hair is actually dead. (Is that what they teach nurses at University?) In which case, there must be different levels of deadness. There must be like, dead, and then there is effing dead.

Sup Britney!?

So when people call me the Queen of Bringing Hair Back to Life, I barely even flinch anymore I’m so used to the compliment. And when people ask for autographs, I of course oblige. And when people tell me I’m arrogant and self-absorbed, I am barely even offended.

Anyway, I know there must be someone out there in the intergalactic universe, desperately searching for answers. And Ive got ‘em. Practical, useable tips. If you send me $10 and a self-addressed envelope with a photo of yourself, I might buy a pizza for dinner with the money.  

I’m kidding, I’ll tell you right now. Ok, here is my first tip. The Bun. Call it what you will – the top knot, the “cleaning the house pulled-up hair”, the Year 8er’s at the shops coolio style which some 22 year olds try and pull off (ie. Me). It is the super high bun slicked back and up, with leave-in conditioner for a wetish shine and a bit of hair spray and a few bobby’s. It's easy and requires zero heat styling and you can pull it out at night and your hair will be all “oh thank you, you're amazing” and you’ll be like “shoosh, hair”. Any day you put down a heatstyler is a win for the Jewish people and healthy hair the world over.

Sorry, people with dead hair aren’t allowed to have “trims”. What’s that? There’s a “hair trimming” party on this weekend and all your friends are going? Sorry, we aren’t invited. People with deadish hair aren’t allowed to have hair trims. That’s more of a rule than an actual law. You have to walk into your hairdresser and say this line – and you may want to write this down and take it in with your picture of Jennifer Aniston, in case you forget – “Just cut off anything that looks dead”. Your hairdresser will be pleased with this statement. My hairdresser always says “don’t worry (frowns at hair), I was going to anyway”. Awesome. Trims are for cool people who don’t bleach the eff out of the hair and straighten it 25 times a day. You lost that privilege, sorry. Now go eat some brussel sprouts and tidy your room.

The less you wash, the less you need to dry. Sounds simple. But like this equation Z(R +2)- red * (54 + X) = D, it isn’t. Because after hockey training, when you are all sweaty and disgusting you want to strip all that oil out with shampoo. And the next day, when you know you are meeting your friends for drinks, you want your hair to be all fresh and bouncy. So you wash it again. Life is tough, I hear you girlfriend. But it’s called dry shampoo - $10 from Priceline. Spray that shiz in your hair whenever you can get away with “one more day without washing”. Because washing means blow-drying, and straightening and over-productizing. Your hair just wants to relax man, it’s had a big day at work. It wants to be left alone to watch Neighbours and eat nachos on the couch (so what if it’s not a real dinner?)

Obviously there are all the other too-obvious-to-bother mentionings – but I probably should in case some poor girl out there truly thinks that’s all it takes to reincarnate zombie hair.

Weekly moisture and protein treatments (I love love love Kerastase Masquintense).

Cut the bleach for fucks, I mean gods, sake. And a ridiculously good heat protectant for straightening and blow-drying (I love Kerastase Thermo-Protectant Milk).

Man, I can’t wait to get my cheque from Kerastase this week. Think I’ll buy a Wii Fit and do star jumps to impress my housemates. Kidding, they are just awesomely good, boringly packaged products that are like the Chanel of haircare.

Well that was a long post wasn’t it, I am obviously well-versed in this area. Ditto with Missy Higgins songs.