Just call me q

A woman contemplating life, incognito

Hey, Three Year Old, Thankyou For Dissing My Hair…


born with messy hair justcallmeq Q queline

I was never happy with my hair. I think it’s because – when I was born  the nurses (apparently) flocked to see my mass of wavy locks because “it looked so unusual,” said mum. “Odd,” confided dad when I was older and out of earshot of mum. And at school my hair styles were never conventional. I did short and cropped; I did fierce and ‘mohicaned;’ I did permed, shaggy, straight, shaved, curly, crimped, you name it, I did it; all in an attempt to hide my natural look which was… ‘messy.’ But nothing worked. My hair, it seemed, was always in a permanent state of dishevelment and it bothered me.

hairstyles messy curly permed straight crimped shaggy shaved short justcallmeq Q queline

And it finally came to a head (my head) shortly after I’d signed up to do a spot of part-time nannying for an agency.

My first assignment was to a mum who’d just given birth and wanted help with ironing and with occupying her three year old son. This sounded right up my street. So I went to the house, I knocked on the door and it was opened by a perfect mother with perfect hair wearing perfectly ironed clothes who then proceeded to lead me into a perfectly styled lounge to meet her perfect little baby and three year old boy. I felt like I’d stepped into a ‘Hello’ magazine.

perfect hair justcallmeq Q queline

Anyway, I introduced myself, I made friends with my charge and then I began to carry out my duties. No problem. And all was going (I don’t want to say ‘perfectly’ but it was so, do you mind if I do?) perfectly until the boy suddenly blurted out:

Why is your hair so messy?

messy hair cartoon justcallmeq Q queline

Well, I tell you, for a split second time stood still. And then a tidal wave of feelings swept over me. I felt embarrassment and anger; I felt inadequacy, helplessness and confusion.

Why do children always have to say it as it is?” I thought. “It was bad enough the time that little girl told me I had a yellow tooth in the middle of the check-out queue at Sainsburys. Why, oh, why do these things keep happening to me?”

yellow tooth cartoon justcallmeq Q queline

But then, you know, a strange thing happened. As the wave gently began to recede, acknowledgement, acceptance and – very slowly – gratitude began to reveal themselves to me. I suddenly realized, as I stood there on this woman’s pure white carpet trying hard not to simultaneously cry and stress-wee, that resistance was futile. I would always have wayward follicles; it was my fate. So why try to fight it? And so I stopped. And from that day on, ‘messy’ officially became ‘a style’ in my books.

And I didn’t say it at the time (because he were only small) but, “thank you, three year old boy for dissing my hair. You helped me learn to love it.”

cartoon justcallmeq Q queline


My second post: Just a quick Woo-hoo, perhaps? Ok. Maybe not…


Good morning, brave, anonymous and slightly worried me.

Did I give too much away the other night? Oh, I do hope not. I can’t have anyone knowing where my ’emergency’ biscuits are; I simply can’t. I mean, what if a real-life situation requiring instant sugar were ever to occur? How would I survive without my oat crumblies? How?

Waaahhh! Why am I even thinking about my crumblies? I should be panicking about concentrating on staying under the radar so that I can just write whatever I want to write.

But what if people recognize the big botty, horrid hair and terrible trotters combo and decide to ‘out’ me?


big botty justcallmeq Q queline

Big botty

messy hair justcallmeq Q queline

Horrid hair

terrible trotters flat feet justcallmeq Q queline

Terrible trotters

Oh, piggy poo poo’s. I can’t let my insecurities ruin it for me – I just can’t. Tomorrow, I write the first thing that comes into my head and we’ll take it from there.


My first post! Wooh-hooooo…



cake blogging queline justcallmeq Q


Ah, that’s it. The hard part’s over. Now that I have my very own space on the worldwide web – where I can anonymously jot down any little thoughts that pop into my head – I can relax. Yes, because no-one knows this is me; no-one knows that I’m here, and no-one is going to come up to me tomorrow morning and say:

1) do you really think about cellulite 15-20 times a day?

2) does your mum mind that you get all your self-help and ‘weirdy’ books delivered to her house and that the postman thinks she’s nuts?


3) why do you keep ’emergency’ biscuits in the tumble dryer and, more importantly, WHAT EXACTLY CONSTITUTES AN EMERGENCY?


justcallmeq Q queline



Ahh, this is great, this is. I can say what I like…

Oh, alright then, I will!

“I have a huge bottom.” (Boy, that feels good.)


big botty justcallmeq Q queline


“My feet are flat and I have ginormously big big toes.” (Wait a mo, will you, while I punch the air with my fist?) Done.

“I have rubbish hair, my eyes don’t work, my thighs undulate and I have a cake addiction so severe that I could probably do with a stint in rehab.”

YEAH! This is just so liberating. I don’t know why I didn’t start a blog years ago. Oh, well. Never mind. I’ve started now and that’s what counts.

Goodnight brave anonymous me. Xx