One thing I am not known for is good hair. I have too much of it places I don’t want it (legs) and not enough of it where I do want it (head). I went from having tonnes of unruly, wavy, flyaway at the front tresses in my childhood and teen years to some pathetic ironed out excuse of a small collection of split ends in my late 20s.
Anxiously I asked my hairdresser one day – where has my hair gone? He was holding my hair in its limp ponytail, a feat that previously would have required a good clutch of a palm. Now the hair would fit would fit between two fingers.
“Is there baldness in your family?” he asked. Yes, I said, thinking of some male members who shall remain nameless. “I think it may be a version of that,” he said. “And the years of straightening haven’t helped.” Well they wouldn’t would they?
I was glad that there might be a reason for my lack lustre hair. I really thought I was going mad there for a while. Gradually in my 20s it had been disappearing in chunks down the plughole. Now at least I had a reason for it. Thinning hair.
And so, I bought a set of hair extensions and that was pretty much it for a while. All social occasions (of worth of course) were treated to an evening of me pinning someone else’s hair to my head. “Where does it come from?” asked my husband one day. “Do you think they chop it off dead people?”
Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise me and I couldn’t deny that this was a possibility. So, to this day, hair extensions are called ‘dead woman’s hair’ in our house and I still merrily plant it on my hand, whenever I have the time or the inclination.
I think I gave up on my own hair. What’s the point? I thought. After I had my daughter, it fell out in even greater chunks once all the wondrous pregnancy growth hormones had left my body. (Another joy of motherhood- balding temples and a spiky regrowing fringe a 1997 goth would be proud of).
I even stopped getting it coloured professionally. I was on an anti-hair binge. (Just on my head obviously – hair removal on other parts of the body is for pre-baby, don’t you know).
Anyway, then I got pregnant again and two things happened. One, the growth hormones kicked in once more and all of a sudden my hair felt weightier. Two – I decided I was going to start ‘treatments’.
Treatments are something hairdressers always mutter at me whenever I have the boldness to plonk my ass in their vibrating chairs. Most times I let them add them to my hair when I do visit, mostly because I feel guilty for putting them through the strain of having to deal with my crap hair.
But this time, I decided, I was going to take on and do them myself. A lot. Like maybe every time I washed it. Off I went to the chemist and because it was only a teeny tiny shop they didn’t have any treatments in stock. “Do you have coconut oil?” asked the assistant. “Try it – it’s really good.” Delighted at this bargain information I went home, fully intending on raiding the cooking press where we kept our olive oil and marmalades – but try as I might, I couldn’t bring myself to open the cupboard up and slap the lard into my hair. I wasn’t in the mood. I wanted a product.
And then Ziaja
About a week later I got an email about Ziaja products. I get a lot of press releases but usually don’t pay too much attention. I’m not a beauty blogger and I’m all about the finding products you like around the age of 15 and sticking to them. I also don’t believe in paying big for shitehawk creams or mad expensive make-up because you’d want to have rocks in your head if you think a simple paste could bring those wrinkles back to base.
At the bottom of the release I spied Ziaja Hair Masks and I scrolled back and took a look.
Yes, I thought. These will suit me. They cost €3.99 for a big tub – my kind of pricing and I’d used their moisturiser before and knew it was a thick cream and not one of those watery squirty types that leave a thin film of grease before evaporating entirely.
About a week later, I received two types of hair treatment and three baby products too for review. I went straight for the goat’s milk mask. I don’t why, but anything with goat’s milk SEEMS like it will be awesome. Goat’s cheese. Amazing. Orphaned forest children who were suckled by goats. Amazing. Obvs.
I started applying it after shampooing, adding in good dollops because I reckoned I was starting from a pretty low ebb. I realised I didn’t have time for doing any sort of treatments that involved any thought outside the enclosed shower. Treatments, I scoffed. Who did I think I was?
After a few washes I noticed my hair was beginning to feel better. It was more… slidy. Hmmm I thought. What if… And then I did it. I plopped it on when I was nowhere near the shower. I took a big splodge, rubbed it in my ponytail, tied it up and walked round the house like that for two hours. Treating myself.
Once washed out, the difference was remarkable. Truly. I glared in the mirror at work one day and touched it. It couldn’t really be working could it? Could one product really be making that much difference to my broken and tired hair?
Here’s the selfie I took at work. See? Shiny.
From the pic you can see my hair is still pretty thin, but unless Ziaja bring out Trump style hair regrowth products, I’m happy to live with shiny thinness.
I’ve since used the cocoa butter hair mask and found that good too. It has a nice smell but there’s something about the whiteness of the goat’s milk packaging that keeps drawing me back.
Today I got my hair coloured and cut professionally (see – back in the hair game) and as my hairdresser prodded my much improved mulllet she asked, ‘how are you finding your hair these days?’
GREAT! I said.
And you know what she said?
Nothing. No offer of a boiled up towel treatment or anything. Because I didn’t need it. Thank you baby hormones and Ziaja. You’ve changed my hairy life.
You can purchase Ziaja hair masks from OrginalBeauty.ie< rel="nofollow"/a>. I also trialled some of the new baby range – including the Baby & Kids Lubricating Bath – which is cool because it goes in yellow and turns the water blue – good fun for older children I reckon. I liked the Soothing Cream which is good for treating cracks in skin or areas you’re trying to clear up. And even though we don’t usually use creams on the toddler’s bum bum anymore she did have a small flare up for which I tried the Diaper Rash Ointment and it worked well too – as good as Sudocreme.
*I received these products free of charge in return for an honest review