Cyclamen

Did you know that if you stuff cyclamen root up a bald man’s nose, it will encourage a new growth of hair? No, neither did I, but according to The Cottage Gardener’s Companion, this was a traditional use in the sixteenth century.

Most of us are content to enjoy cyclamen as hardy and reliable ground cover that will thrive under trees and bloom through the winter. Although they produce flowers in colours ranging from white through pink and purple to deep red, it’s the rich magenta that is most often associated with the word Cyclamen.

Here’s me in 1980 with my hair in the Crazy Color ‘Cyclamen’ shade:

You will have to make a little leap of imagination, as the photo booth only offered black and white prints. Brightly-dyed hair was considered quite outré in those days and mostly the preserve of punks. I was in my final year at Aston University in Birmingham, and aware that if, on graduating, I were to have a chance of landing the well-paid and high-powered job I was hoping for, this would be my last opportunity to do something a bit daring with my appearance.

In fact, if you look closely, you will see an outline around the top of my head where I had excised the spiky bits of hair with a scalpel to create a more conventional-looking pic of myself for application forms:

The cut and colour was done at Sun and Hair, one of the city’s most fashion-forward salons. Afterwards, feeling self-conscious, I went for a stroll around Rackhams, the upmarket department store in Corporation Street. Catching sight of myself in a mirror, I was aware that the hair was wearing me rather than the other way around – my pale, unadorned winter face sat oddly under the brilliant pink. What I needed was some appropriate make-up, but I didn’t know where to begin.

I tentatively approached the Miss Selfridge counter with its dazzling display of funky colours. As soon as the assistant spotted me, his eyes gleamed.

“Stay there!” he commanded, grabbing supplies and then darting out to whisk brushes around my face. Five minutes later I was transformed – turned smoothly into the sort of girl who could rock cyclamen hair with effortless nonchalance. Needless to say I bought a set of the products.

Two of the boys in my year group had also experimented with Crazy Color – one emerald green and the other canary yellow – and the next day in the lecture theatre we instinctively gravitated to sit together in the front row. The lecturer seemed mesmerised, continually glancing towards us as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. For the rest of that term we were known as the Traffic Lights.

One unpleasant incident sticks in my mind. I was walking through the crowded Bull Ring Shopping Centre one afternoon when a man came running up behind me, punched me between the shoulder blades, and ran on. It knocked the breath out of me but didn’t knock me over, and happened so quickly that I doubt anyone noticed – at any rate, none of the passers-by offered help or even commented.

At the time there was a strand of punk rock with a viciously racist reputation, and I can only assume that because of my punky hair, in this person’s eyes I was lumped in with them, and therefore regarded as fair game for a totally unprovoked assault.

This sort of thing really brings home how we are judged, and how people make assumptions about us, because of our appearance. These days, ‘purple hair’ is often used as shorthand in the right-wing media as an indicator of someone with militant activist or anarchic tendencies – what fun it is to subvert stereotypes!

Anyway, since then I’ve always had a soft spot for Cyclamen, so here’s my Curiously Cubist take on these vigorous little plants. They are oil/wax pencil + ink on paper. Just click on the images to see more details.