Star-like volume... no washing required!
For me it was clear: you can't shampoo your hair without water. Dry shampoos didn't mean anything to me. Washing with a spray? I didn't understand the principle. I tended to wash my oily hair as soon as the first signs of grease appeared. That is, all the time. But it was weighing it down, and I felt that something needed to change...
And then I went on a trip last year with my friend Anna. A fifteen-day backpacking trip in the north of India, in the high plateaus of Ladakh—it was magnificent. And quite hair-raising. With the heat and humidity, and the limited access to water during our stopovers, I shook up my habits. I hid my greasy hair in distress under my cap or under a beautiful cashmere pashmina; in short, I adapted. I put off shampooing, I held out, but I dreamed about it at night. Anna would take out her little bottle of dry shampoo, which she had bought in the duty free shop at the airport, and she would taunt me by saying: "It's strangely relieving, you know."
We were supposed to end on a high note with the wedding of Anna's cousin, near Delhi. And then – I will remember it for the rest of my life – our night train was 12 hours late. 12 hours! It was crazy, but there was a great atmosphere. We were going to arrive at the wedding at the very last second, in the early morning; without being able to go to the hotel, of course. So we got ready in the tiny restrooms of the crowded carriage. It was epic, with chai sellers at the window and the train jerking abruptly. My hair was a disaster; it was heavy and plastered to my head. We were literally coming down from the mountain. Anna said to me: "Come on, dry shampoo. It's a must.” She showed me how to us it: "You spray it 6 to 8 inches from the roots to the tips. Then massage the scalp with your fingertips.” I let her do it: my hair had nothing left to lose anyway. In three spritzes, I felt better. The powder had absorbed the oil. My hair was lighter and bouncier. We were ready to dive into the wedding's huge buffet.
When we got off the train in Delhi, I felt like everyone was looking at my new volume. But no, in fact, it was our outfits that were catching everyone’s eye: emerald green satin saris paired with sneakers and backpacks—we were bordering on the ridiculous.
We partied the night away and I felt like I was back to myself like never before. A new look. And without any running water!
By the end of the trip, dry shampoo was part of my routine. Today, it's great when I need a little pick-me-up, to save my hair between washes, or to fix my slightly greasy bands. Sometimes, even on the tram, just before getting to my students, I do a little touch-up. It reminds me of my Indian adventure. I’ve even left a can in the emergency kit in the teachers' room. This dry shampoo is part of my travel story, and everyone knows it.
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