Make mine a double

Posted by Isabel Dexter at 09:06 on 26 Aug 2009

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I am leading a double life. On 'appointments with PRs days', I flit around in my cut-price Marc Jacobs dresses - all Chloe bag and Balmain-esque jacket outside Cafe de Flore. The other day, I found myself unnecessarily disgusted when I spotted a French girl using cheap eyeliner in the bathrooms at Saints-Pères. And when I was offered some supermarket sun cream at a friend's house this weekend, I felt a little like those supermodels in the PeTA ads in the early Nineties - not so much I'd rather go naked than wear fur, but I'd rather sit in the shade than put that on my skin. Quelle horreur!

Just in case you thought I'm becoming a diva, there are the other days. The more-often days. The days when I'm on various ridiculous deadlines and don't even have time to wash my hair. Or make anything for lunch that doesn't involve cereal and milk. (If you're using more than one ingredient that constitutes cooking, right?) The days when, despite all the Elemis in my bathroom, I end up just splashing my face with water because it's quicker. I know I'm a beauty schizophrenic. Today is one of those days. There's a strange irony to writing about bling-tastic spas and Kate Moss' latest lip colour when what you really need to do is remove the hair from the plug hole in the bathroom and file your tax return. Oh the glamour.

As a welcome respite from trying to work the washing machine with instructions in French - at the same time as conducting a phone interview with a seventy year-old health spa manager in Chelsea who kept calling me "Sweetheart" and offering to send me digestive supplements for my possibly phantom but very painful stomach situation - I had an appointment with the wonderful Georges Panisse at Jean Louis David.

Firstly, I hate to admit this (especially given my diva credentials), but I am somewhat high maintenance about my hair. I usually sit in a state of unsurpassed tension whilst the poor, maligned stylist promises to "just cut half an inch off, dear." So when Georges told me he was chopping my hair to shoulder length, I tried to rearrange my features back into an appropriate look. That plus a Sixties-style fringe had me fearing it was all becoming a bit too Cecile from Cruel Intentions. More innocent than ingénue. Moi, je suis pas comme ça.

Au contraire, this was the best hair cut I ever had (photos to follow next week- it's 11pm and I only just cleaned my teeth, give me a moment, people). Choppy with lots of movement and better still after three weeks of growing out time I have that effortless chic thing going on. (Well when I can be bothered to brush it that is).

"Parisian women always ask for stylish haircuts that above all are easy to manage," says Georges, who runs the Jean Louis David on Pierre Charron in Paris (and is currently my favourite person in the city!) "They do not have hours to spend in their bathroom every morning, so they want something ready-to-wear, that lasts in a good and fitting shape. A great haircut is one that grows well."

Like so much else in Paris it's about getting good foundations (and I'm not talking tinted moisturiser)."The Parisian look is difficult," admits Georges, "It's part way between easy-to-wear and glamorous." Having an identity crisis has never been so in fashion.

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