Bleach


Bleach is a blast, like being at a beach party every day, even when the weather sucks.  It facilitates a 24/7 personal spotlight shining down onFullSizeRender 2 your head to light up your face and give you an otherworldly glow, without the sun damage.  Your skin looks younger and tanned, your clothes look more interesting, it instantly ups your cool factor.  Bleach and toner can give you from Bieber to Beyonce, Gaga to Gisele, Mansfield to Monroe, Stefani to Scarlett.  New parts of your personality pop out in mysterious ways, perhaps due to so many more eyes on you.  It makes you want to take that chance, not liquid but powder courage.

Bleach is also interesting because it is as counter culture as Cobain and as high fashion as Donatella, as angelic as a two year old dancing in the park with whiteblond curls bouncing in the wind.  It can inspire delusions of grandeur – you are untouchable, or conspire to destroy you after that accidental chemical haircut.


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I love the smell of bleach and with all my chemical sensitivities, I can have it on my head for two hours, two days in a row with narry a tickle.  Certain folks can itch, burn and bubble if bleach is not professionally applied.  Just combing it on the ends of your hair can add airiness and movement, your hair becomes a beautiful cloud others will imagine resting their heads on.

Bleach is hard to explain, you’ll just have to do it one day to find out for yourself.

 

 

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