Having lived in Yorkshire for a while there are certain traits that must be adopted. It’s the rules. Waste and chucking stuff out requires considerable pre-scrutiny, no such decision is taken lightly. This essentially includes stuff lurking in cupboards, maybe even, as it happens, for the odd decade.
A surprise recent find involved hair treatment. Having avoided the stuff since the days of original Brylcream – maybe that should read “classic” to follow marketing speak. It arrived in glass jars with a screw on black top. The goo was a white creamy substance containing all manner of ingredients vital to hair performance. Slapping it on produced a luxurious shine that allowed a variety of arrangements of one’s Barnet. It also left greasy marks on collars, pillow cases and on the back of your Mum’s best couch.
Since that discovery, and the subsequent retribution I have not been near the stuff. But behold a tin of aerosol hair treatment lay in the depths of a cupboard which displayed no outward sign of deterioration. A cursory shake revealed it was still full. A dilemma. Was it too good to waste – certainly not without scrutiny
“Spray Wax” was hardly the most enticing name, but being an apprentice Yorkshire man honour was at stake. You could hardly ditch the tin without further investigation. The wife claimed no knowledge of it‘s legacy. It was essential to delve further and with the spirit of the trail blazer I read the instructions; granted not my normal approach but needs must.
Spray lightly from 10 inches then shuggle your fingers through your hair to give that tussled look. A further dilemma, I had no knowledge of the verb to “shuggle” or what “tussled hair” was meant to look like. With British grit summoned I gave it go. A strange sensation and about as remote from the days of Bryclream as you can get. The finished effect, as far as I was concerned, was a strangely disheveled but somehow alluring look if I may say so. The wax element presumably being the dull slightly glued look that keeps the Barnet firmly in place.
Anyway I have quite taken with the stuff and not just because it was free. Still not sure of the intended gender of the stuff but we are in the days of unisex so what the heck. The bright pink colour of the tin might give a clue but what the heck again. It’s been quite a success such that in an off guarded moment I spotted the stuff in Boots. “It’s on special and – 3 for 2” the assistant advised whilst I hovered from a distance still nervous over the gender issue. So now, being in Yorkshire I have three and a half tins of the stuff, roughly eight years of use and still none the wiser as to how it was in that cupboard.