The Old Salon

It’s been so long since I’ve been to a hair salon, I’m not even sure they still exist. Like…I might have driven past one? And  used to enjoy the relaxing feeling of someone styling and cutting your hair. Now I get that, but in the stressful environment of showbiz, usually in a chair on-set with crew and cameramen dashing back and forth, and I’m trying to memorise intros, and the director is always yelling about something. So yeah, not quite sitting back in a chair and idly chatting about my latest holiday.

It’s not like I can find a nice little hair salon in the Melbourne CBD and sneak inside for a spell. Being a presenter means you have to have very specific hair, for specific days. Continuity must be maintained, as they say. If I do the digger tour with my hair in a very purposeful ponytail and then in the next shot it’s falling freely, then viewers will write letters. They have written letters. And I don’t really like seeing it, to be honest; continuity errors bother me and they make the show look fake. So…no colouring in my hair, even if there’s a shade I really want. I basically have to do with my appearance whatever the producers tell me, which is a weird and unpleasant way to put it, but…that’s showbiz, I guess.

The only time I actually get to do anything with my hair outside of instructions is when the show goes on break, which is something I take full advantage of. I have my favourite little South Melbourne hair salon where I go to sort of celebrate being on holiday. And then once I have my hair done, I actually go on holiday, preferably to a place where no one recognises me and asks for autographs or says interesting things like ‘you’re that women from the travel show, right?’

I’m that women from the travel show. Got my nice hair, got my sunglasses, just trying to live life as a normal person, thanks.