Posted by In 2011, towards the end of a chemotherapy treatment, I’d had enough of wearing a wig. Convinced my new hair growth was really long, I took it off. My toddler would run her hand over it delightedly, squealing ‘pikey as all of her speech – like my hair – hadn’t quite arrived yet.
A couple of days later, I was in our usual Pizza Express with my husband and babies. I call it usual as we had A LOT of scary hospital appointments for said toddler at that time – blood tests and plans for future surgery, conversations I never imagined I would have to have when I had children – so to cheer me up, afterwards I would drag the double buggy, pushing toddler and just learning-to-walk-baby, over to the City to meet their dad for pizza.
On this particular day, we had just finished lunch and our usual waiter, who must have just arrived, saw me for the first time – bald as a coot, as my mother would have put it – and stared at me horrified, before recovering his equilibrium to ask me how I was doing. We had a little chat and then my husband ordered dessert, which the waiter promptly brought over along with two glasses of Prosecco, that we definitely hadn’t ordered, and told us that dessert and the Prosecco was on the house.
It was a lovely gesture but as I picked up my glass to do a cheers, I couldn’t help myself: Here, next week let’s tell him about you two, I said, meaning my hubby and our toddler. He had given her one of his kidneys the previous year so that she could live, and learn to toddle around with us. We’ll get free pizza. Then I laughed out loud and took a big slurp. Bless him, my husband did not laugh.
I had completely forgotten about that day until last year, when I was disappointed not to appointed the Livery Professor of Information Technology at Gresham College, after the effort of designing a whole lecture series and a lecture for the interview. I had even been planning to turn up to lectures dressed as a robot and Ada Lovelace. Then, I saw a competition advert on Facebook run by Prima magazine: Win a makeover. Become a cover star for the day and I thought: Mmm, let’s cheer myself up.
The competition was aimed at women over 40 who felt invisible, so remembering the day I got free Prosecco, I wrote down the things I knew they would be looking for: grey hair, cancer, blah blah, along with the requested full-body picture and a headshot. I chose the one at the top of the blog me in my disco pants taken before going out one night and my usual profile pic below:
I had also been watching Smoggie Queens on the BBC iPlayer that week, laughing and chatting to family and friends about it on Facebook as I watched. It was the first time in my life I had seen Middlesbrough on television without the usual stereotypes: poverty, decline, whatever. Instead, here were people from the Boro talking exactly how we talk — yer jokin aren’t ye -and people from the Boro are bloody funny every day of their lives. I honestly think stand-up comedians should get themselves up to the Boro for a week and learn what funny really is.
I even knew one of the stars (we were in a band together). So, inspired and chuffed, at the end of the 50 words or whatever it was, when they asked why I wanted the makeover, I wrote: “Style me like a Smoggie Queen!”
And whey-hey, I won! #UTB
I couldn’t wait to be transformed.
(To be continued…)