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By Jodi Bartle

As goes these things, the very best blow dry I have ever had coincided with a monsoon-like washout of biblical proportions.

In a flash, my freshly-Olaplexed crown, kicky little tonged waves and smoothed-down side-parting was rendered wet and flat with nothing but about 4000 heavily-filtered Instagram photos to prove it was ever there. 

For about six beautiful minutes, right before I left the comfort of the small but perfectly-formed Edward James London Salon + Spa in Clapham, my stylist Adam made me look like someone else.

Like someone groomed - someone who knew how to use hair-styling tools and whose look was more ‘I’ve got a proper job’ than someone who spends most of her time cutting up toast for pre-schoolers and doing seven loads of washing in an old jumper and a broken hair tie. It was nothing short of a miracle.

I visited the salon in order to trial one of its signature treatments, but having a whole load of post-baby hair issues, I wasn't sure which needed attention most.

After my children were born I suffered from hair loss which is currently in the process of uneven and frankly nonsensical helmet-like regrowth, I have damaged hair from highlights, a fair amount of greys coming through, and my hair keeps changing its mind about whether it is curly or straight.

Luckily Adam was not fazed by the plethora of hair challenges my head faced him with and instead told me that my hair was lovely, there was no significant hair loss really and that, between him, the Olaplex treatment and his tools, he would help me look just fine.

There is nothing quite as lovely as having someone take you in hand and tell you they understand what you are worried about and that they know just how to help. Reader, I could have married him.

Offers of something to drink and the best magazines were followed by a short but totally divine neck and shoulder massage, complete with Aveda aromatherapy scents of my choosing.

The idea is to sample three or four essential oil mixes and choose one, depending on your mood, which for me soon became simply ‘sleepy’ and ‘grateful’.

After a wash, the treatment, and a totally unexpected but warmly received arm and hand massage, Adam set to work on my newly bouncy, glossy, moisturised hair.

Over wide-eyed approving glances at myself in the mirror while my new head took place, we talked a little about careers and influencers, children and boyfriends, while I showed myself to be entirely ignorant of where Northern Ireland actually is.

It was two hours of complete and utter delight. Adam erased my Rhys Ifans accidental mullet and replaced it with a golden longish bob, tonged into symmetrical sassy little kinks.

For those six minutes, I was my best new self, and I have 4000 photos to prove it.

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Book yourself in at @edwardjameshair.