I think my ma used to cut my hair until perhaps I reached age 11/12 (in the early 1960s), when she began sending me to her hair-dresser. I discovered that whatever I asked him to do I would come home with the same short bouffant!:-( I wanted to grow my hair but Ma said something along the lines of long hair pulling itself out by its own weight and that I would have to wait till I was 13. Of course, when I reached 13 I let it grow and grow (I was an admirer of Joanie Baez’ long locks at the time). In 1967, a time of cultural developments expressed in a song about “going to San Francisco”, I hacked it off to roughly jaw-line length and backcombed it into a semi ‘freak-out’! In my later teens, with this hairstyle and my second-hand, androgynous-looking, oversize National Fire Service overcoat, some folk seemed more than a little put out that I did not fit their idea of what ‘a girl should look like’! Toward the end of the ‘60s I grew my hair again and drew it back into a chignon. I was very into black at the time, but I would brighten up my floppy hat with a long magenta-pink or turquoise chiffon scarf. Some years before, I had read the usual stuff about black as an ‘essential’, ‘sexy’, ‘sophisticated’ colour that ‘goes with everything’, but I gravitated particularly toward it after a profound spiritual experience left me longing to uncover the unknown, which black represented to me, rather like the intro of the early Star Trek series, only my ‘unknown’ was more about inner or transcendental space and my ‘voyage’ lacked company and felt like being lost in the dark! I had a hairdresser recoiffe my hair again in late 1970, when I was 19, after fresh hope of renewing my spiritual quest; this hairdo, a permed ‘afro’, was pesky to maintain. In 1971, further fresh hope and spiritual resolve led to my cropping my hair short (no hairdresser), and until 1981 I would go through phases of growing and cropping it myself (by mirror and touch) that reflected internal spiritual phases which I came to think of rather like swings between ‘settlers in a land’ (grow long) and ‘pioneers’ (crop short), or the contrasting stereotypical hairstyles of ‘cavaliers’ and ‘roundheads’ in English history, or like the astrological glyphs of Venus (with its cross of the 4 elements) and Mars (with its initiatory arrow). When I wanted to appreciate, understand and explore ‘present terrain’, I would grow my hair; when I thought it was time to get moving, get out of a spiritual rut, remind myself of spiritual resolve, I would crop my hair. This alternating was spontaneous and spiritually-moved expression; rather like yens to change my handwriting, consequent upon and reflecting some inner development. (I have had my hair long for some decades now; I find it easier this way, but do not now associate it with ‘settlers in the land’.)

I love that the attention a T4 attracts as a bold striking woman is an opportunity to give back, to teach, to educated. I love that. Even for a moment to impart wisdom is what I love doing.

I knew she was a T4 as soon as I heard “they are not the experts. I need it from the expert”

That type 4 woman is just GORGEOUS!!! <3

Just now watching this video. You know what?! I am an intuitive Type 1 (not sure on the secondary) and I already “knew” that Carol was going to offer DYT for free. I love it!

Love you, Carol and Team! <3
Janet

I ALWAYS cut my own hair… lol I did when I was little. My little sister had gotten a haircut and everyone was saying how cute she was (no one ever said anything like that about me and I was jealous). The moment that I went to beauty college and learned how to cut hair, I started in on my own hair. A bit was because I’d never really had a haircut that I was pleased with…and I knew that I could do it on my own better. I also color my own hair.. lol Every time I think I might want to go in and get my hair done, I think of how I can really do it on my own and save money, plus have the satisfaction of a job well. done. 😉