For those of you who have only met me over the internet, my hair is all kinds of crazy. I have ringlets, curls, waves and straight bits all vying for attention. All this afro insanity has the ability, like nothing else, to kill my self esteem. Regardless of what I am wearing, my weight or my skin; if my hair is throwing a tantrum I feel down and self-conscious all day.

Thank the stars for Ashley from Taylor Taylor London. I booked with some trepidation, normally hairdressers will just attack me with the thinning scissors regardless of what style I have asked for. But the amazing Ashley did quite the opposite – she listened.

As well cutting my mop into a rocking medium length bob, Ashley gave me a brazilian. A brazilian blowout that it. You can read all about the blowout itself on-line – pro’s, con’s, controversy and all. All I can say is that it really REALLY worked for me. It will not last forever, but I figure that it is the equivalent to some people dying their hair every few months.

The most important thing, and the main reason to go and see someone like Ashley, is how she approached my hair. Rather than just going in guns blazing and doing my entire head (and charging me £££+ in the process), she recognised that the tightest curls were on the top of my head and just did the treatment there.

The final result was my hair being normal for the first time in its life. Not straight by any means, but it calmed down the curliest bits and made my hair more uniform.

I know that looks aren’t everything, but I have not walked so tall in such a long time.

As for Taylor Taylor – the salon looks like a 2012 dream of Marie Antoinette. The only difference being that rather than Kings and Queens, this dream is full of Shoreditch cool kids and Hackney hipsters.

I can’t forget the best part of Taylor Taylor – free cocktails.

You can’t miss this exhibition. Actors, models, and friends of Chanel all dressed in the classic Little Black Jacket. Each is rocking their own particular style. Georgia May Jagger makes it sexy, Elle Fanning innocent, and Anna Wintour shows us her best side.

This exhibition has taken over the top floor of the Saatchi gallery and is only on till the 28th of this month. The lights have been dimmed, and the photos are large scale and nailed to the wall. Its showed perfectly that all this marketing bolloks is just that. Whoever you are and whatever you are wearing, you just have to make it your own.

Oh, and you get a free poster. You know how much I love that.

Recently when I was on holiday with my parents, my Mum kept looking over at me and frowning. I naturally assumed that it was my turn to buy the sangria, and was about to muster the energy to do so when she exclaimed “I think this magazine is written directly for you”.

And thus I was introduced to Red magazine.

Finally a magazine which does not treat me like a stick thin billionaire housewife with a beige outlook on life for whom Botox and Brangelina are as important as breathing.

Red talks abut friendship, strength and passion. It gives me hope that there are other women out there who think like me.

Red goes beyond just print (or pixels in the case of my iPad), it has built a community. There are networking events, a constant stream of tweets and blogs, and even where you can buy all those things you dream about.

So thank you thank you thank you to the Red team for treating me like an intelligent woman who just happens to like handbags.

P.s. for those who are wondering, the articles which made my Mum think of me were – women who enjoy hanging out by themselves, women who have made ‘plan B’ career changes because they figured out it just wasn’t making them happy, entrepreneurs starting a jewellery business and a collection of awesome recipes.