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June 15, 2008
Going to the hairdressers is such a sensual experience. I have always loved it. When I was a child, my mum used to keep my hair short. I would look forward to feeling the snip of scissors next to my ear send a shiver down my spine. Already than I knew I should not be gaining that much pleasure from a stranger's touch, so I always kept it to myself. In my rebel stage, hair was long and I did my own fringe. Recently, though, I have been reintroduced to the excitement of someone's warm, expert hands handling my hair.