When I was 16-17, I had a mohawk. It was the hardest hair style to manage, b.c I have hair that is so thick that it could be used to make sweaters for an entire third world nation. Also, my hair was waist length when curly, butt length when wet. I had this square of hair on top of my head, about 4 inches square, and the rest of my hair was shaved. If I wore my hair down, you had no idea that what was underneath was shaved.

I had NO money, so I got my friend Sue to shave my shaved bits back to skin...using disposable razors and soap. Can we say "OWIE" people? I remember sitting on the edge of the bath with my long hair pulled over my face while she shaved the rest of my head using the cake of Palmolive Gold soap and a packet of 12 disposable razors. Mum was not happy; we were living WAY below the poverty line at that point and Sue had used all the soap and razors we had.

So she oiled my newly shaved scalp with baby oil (extremely soothing, I might add), and I put my hair up on top of my head and waited for the tingly sensation in my skull to diminish. We watched b/w TV.

The next day, I went to the chemist to get what I would use for purple dye. We couldn't afford proper dye and hanging out with punkers, you do tend to learn the shortcuts of maintaining funky coloured hair. So, with the advice of my friend Sally, who had quite possibly the best purple hair I'd ever seen, I went and bought a bottle of Genetian Violet with my last $2.50.

Mum soaked up my hair and I pulled it over my face and leaned over the laundry trough while she poured the Genetian Violet through my hair, working it in and trying not to get it on everything else. Fiona stood in the doorway offering all sorts of helpful commentary. We wrapped my hair in a plastic bag b.c we had no glad wrap and I waited for 2 hours.

Then I went to wash it out. Gentian Violet stains EVERYTHING. And I mean - EVERYTHING. I took in a scourer and a bottle of home brand industrial bleach, b.c I'd seen Sally become a lavender skinned punky chick when I'd been at her place and she had been touching up her hair.

It took me 10 minutes to wash my hair. It took me an hour to scrub my skin and even then I still had lavender fingers and knees. It took me 3 hours to scrub the walls and floor. The bathroom ended up with very pale lavender streaks and splashes all over it.

I staggered out of the bathroom smelling like I'd fallen into a vat of industrial bleach, which in a sense, I had, and collapsed on the floor of the loungeroom while Mum and Fiona waited impatiently for the bathroom to dry out (it had a tendencey to flood) and for my hair to dry.

Mum was pleasantly surprised that I hadn't totally redecorated the bathroom, and they were both hugely impressed by my hair when it dried. It was a deep, rich, royal purple and when I was in the sunlight, it actually glowed. I was jolly chuffed.

It stayed that colour for about 6 months.

Fiona and I went out that night and we got on the bus to go to her place. I forgot my hair was purple, forgot I was wearing a red t-shirt saying "Pussy Galore: Dial M For Motherfucker" and stomped down the back of the bus with people quailing in terror. Fiona found all this highly amusing. Actually, she laughed at me all night. *G*

So if you want to dye your hair an amazing shade of purple, use Gentian Violet. And you too can have the enormous fun that I did of explaining what it is you've used:

Person: What did you use to dye your hair?
Me: Gentian Violet.
Person: What's that?
Me: Antiseptic for thrush.
Person: *choke* you put that in your HAIR?
Me: Yep. My hair feels great.
Person: YOU ARE A SICK FREAK!
Me: Eh.

Questions? Comments? Wanna stroke my ego? Then e-mail me.