The last time I had short hair was when I was a teenager. It was a short-short bob, graduated at the back and dyed a fiery red, thanks to my favourite Wella Shaders and Toners. I truly loved that bob. Having an actual hair ‘style’, as opposed to just hair that was there, made me feel grown-up, sophisticated and chic (despite the fact I wasn’t yet old enough to buy an Archers and lemonade in the pub). But once that bob grew out I never went back; long hair became my signature style.

In truth, long hair really was part of my visual identity. “You know Lisa,” people would say, “the one with the really long brown hair.” It was my primary descriptor alongside my tendency to smile a lot. My hair even had its own fan base. I once discovered a picture of me was being used in a Manchester hair salon as ‘hairspiration’ (a career high) and old friends and colleagues would often ask after my hair before my general wellbeing. And I loved it too. Thanks to my Italian heritage, I had easy-to-grow, thick hair and I could get away with a trim a couple of times (OK, once) a year. Drying it, however, was not quite as low maintenance. Long hair needs time to style, and even though I had become a whizz with straighteners and tongs, I had to book hair wash nights into my diary because the whole process took hours: wash, leave to dry naturally for an hour, dry with a Dyson Airwrap, style. I wouldn’t have considered going near a hairdryer with freshly showered hair; not even The Rock and his bulging biceps could hold a hairdryer over his head for that long. 

So, when I walked into George Northwood’s Wells Street salon a couple of weeks ago and suggested he just “cut it all off”, even he was surprised. George, also known as the king of the undone bob thanks to the styles he’s famously cut for Alexa Chung, Rosie Huntington-Whiteley and Alicia Vikander, has been cutting my hair for the past decade, patiently trimming while I bypassed his trademark cut. I’ve only ever requested he go short once: I was pregnant at the time and he suggested we wait until my baby was born. Lo and behold, the bob guru was correct, and as post-natal hair loss thinned out my lion’s mane I realised I’d have been sobbing on his shoulder if he’d snipped off more than an inch.

But this year was different. Not just because of the proliferation of excellent bob inspiration I was seeing (OK, Jenna Coleman’s bob in The Jetty might have inspired me a bit) but because after a summer of beachy hair (read barely washed, let alone styled) I decided enough was enough. My hair felt too long, dried out and basically a bit witchy. I needed it cut.

This time George was less restrained. “Oh, I’m so glad you said that,” he smiled, taking his scissors to my locks. And with one swift chop, four inches of my hair were lying on the floor. The surprisingly speedy transformation left me with a cool blunt lob (long bob) that felt fresh and new. So much shorter but somehow with more movement and texture. I could feel my heart beating faster as I left the salon because I felt something I’d not felt in years: a million bloody dollars. As Phoebe Waller-Bridge so memorably said in Fleabag: “Hair is everything. We wish it wasn’t, so we could actually think about something else occasionally. But it is. It’s the difference between a good day and a bad day.” 

In truth, at the time I thought I was just cutting away a few split ends. But other people’s reactions – and the incredible compliments that followed – made me realise it wasn’t just a trim, it was a transformation I didn’t know I’d been craving.

I’ll admit I still look at long hair admiringly from time to time (My Mum, Your Dad’s Steph triggered a pang of longing just this week), but for now, ‘Lisa with the long brown bob’ is here to stay.

To book an appointment at George Northwood visit georgenorthwood.com.

Images: Lisa Smosarski