Day 88 of 100 Pleats ..Claire’s Challenge and ‘Finding Colour and Fun’



Day 87 of the 100 PLEATS IN 100 DAYS CHALLENGE ……………

Now, you must surely be aware that the challenge was set by the lovely Claire and Melissa from Stone Bridge Hair Accessories …..well, every so often Claire decides that the challenge to do a French pleat every day for 100 days just isn’t tricky enough …… so she throws us a curved ball in the form of an EXTRA challenge. …..I know, I know ….. but I dare n’t disobey; I’m naughty enough as it is ……..

So ….this week’s challenge is to style our hair in a chignon ……..phew….for a minute there I expected a  ‘Star Wars- earphone- hairdo‘ ….reminiscent of Princess Leia ….  You missed a trick there, Claire …..though I would draw the line at a minuscule gold bikini  !!!!

Well, as you will be aware, I have used the bun/chignon styles often, ………. but here is my effort for today.  And it is all being held in place by the gorgeous Pink Hair Stick again.



And now may I present a rather silly little story ……. inspired by a fellow challengee on Twitter.

Yesterday she tweeted the following photograph of her lovely hair and the comment was made that the comb looked as though it ought to be in an animated cartoon, alongside other combs and hairsticks.


She replied that perhaps I should write a story about the comb …….so here it is …with grateful thanks to VICTORIA aka @VickyjgVictoria for the use of the photograph …………

(Please forgive my hasty and rather feeble attempt but I am quite busy at this time of year…..I hope you enjoy it Victoria )




Far, far away, in the huge and magical continent of Africa, there lived a talented wood-carver.

All day long, from dawn ’til dusk, he sat cross-legged on his stool and carved wondrous things from the beautiful bronze and gold, African wood.

When each object was finished, he handed it to his wife and she polished and polished it until the wood was as smooth as silk  and the layers of grain were revealed in all their glory. Then she placed each object carefully in a large wooden box.


Deep down in the depths of this cavernous box lay Congo ….a serious-faced, but most lovely comb  He had an oval head, strong shoulders and 4 long, fork-like legs. And, despite his stern features, Congo was a happy comb ….eager to get out into the wide world and untangle the hair of some beautifully dressed  lady. He wanted to have fun.

He lay among the other combs ….but, while they all lay quietly, Congo rattled about, trying to see out of the box.

“Keep still”  the other combs said, “We will be out of here soon enough”

But Congo was too impatient. He longed for a colourful, fun-filled existence. He was excited by the glimpses of life that he could see over the top of the box. The rainbow hues of clothes and the brightly striped head-dresses of the villagers. The sounds of laughter and music and the warm glow of sunshine. Oh it was going to be fun when he was finally out in the world, combing the hair of the local people ….. But the other combs shook their heads …..

“No, no, there will be no fun for us “ they muttered, “We don’t stay here. We get sent away …..far across the sea to strange lands.   There it is dull and damp. The sun never shines. You will have to learn to accept your fate. We must do our jobs….not ask for more”

Congo could not believe this. He stood on his long legs and tried to peer out of the box.  There was a whole world out there …..surely there must be colour and fun in those strange lands …..there just MUST be !


The next day, Congo and all his friends were scooped up and placed in smaller, cardboard boxes. Then, thin brown paper was placed on top of them and a large lid closed down.

Congo was in darkness.

He was afraid.

There was no colour and fun here !


The boxes were packed into a huge vehicle and Congo felt movement ………..and excitement rose and dispelled some of his fear ……He was going somewhere at last !

But there was still no colour and fun !


Days and days passed and the box kept moving; moving; moving.  Congo lay in the box in total darkness. There was no room to move and he was very uncomfortable as he jostled against the other combs. He was beginning to feel very dejected…… Would he ever leave the confines of this container ?  The others had been right …there was definitely no colour and fun here.

Then, suddenly, the lid was lifted and pale light filtered through the sepia tissue paper that covered Congo and his companions.

“Ah….the African combs”  a voice uttered ….in an accent Congo had never heard before.

“Put them over on that shelf, with the other hair stuff.  Oh and leave the lid off, will you …. I’ll need to check them” 

And the box was whisked up into the air and then was still.


After a few minutes a door banged shut and there was silence.  Congo peered through a small tear in the tissue. Then he gingerly pushed aside a corner of the paper and peeped over the edge of the shallow box. He was in a huge room…..larger than he had ever seen before.  It seemed to go on for miles.  Rows and rows of shelves filled this room and boxes were piled on every shelf. It all looked very dull and boring. Brown boxes. Brown shelves. Dim light. Drab, drab, drab.  No fun or colour…….


“Hello !” said a tiny voice ….and up popped a plain, brown hair-clip.  “Hello, welcome to Britain …..come and meet my friends”


Congo stared at the other hair clips as they all poked their heads out of the boxes. He was a little disappointed.  They were all plain brown.

Across the aisle he noticed another box of clips ….they were all a rather dull dark blue.

“Hello !”

“Hi-ya !”

“Coo-eee !”

Lots of little voices rang out and all along the shelf,  combs and slides jumped out of their boxes. They were all plain and uninteresting in appearance and Congo’s heart sank a little. Then he pulled himself together and sighed.

Okay ….they were not colourful ….but maybe he could still have fun ……..

“Hello everyone, I’m Congo” he called  “ I’m pleased to meet you. What is there to do around here ?”

“Do ?”  replied the little brown hair clip “What do you mean ? We just lie in our boxes and chat” 

“Can’t we do a little dancing ?  Play some games ? Or music  ….I love music? “ asked Congo  “Can’t we have some fun ?”

The combs and hair-slides all shook their heads ….and  slid swiftly back into their boxes.  Some even pulled the lids back over their heads in fear …..

“Oh no….”  they cried ” We can’t do that ….We are only cheap plastic …We will break !”

The little brown hair clip shuffled away, whispering as he went …” If I open and close my fastener too often its becomes loose and drops off.  I daren’t do that …..I will be thrown away” 

And all the clips and slides and combs lay back in their places and were silent.

Congo sighed ….There was no fun here.


Then two humans entered the store-room and began to rummage on the shelves.

“We need those African combs for the Department store order”  boomed a loud voice …… “Ah, here they are “

And, once again, Congo was plunged into darkness as the lid was placed on his box ….And, once again he felt the movement of yet another journey. No colour…no fun.


Time passed and suddenly he felt himself being tumbled out into a large, shallow glass container. Bright lights shone overhead …as bright as the African sunshine ….and he saw the colourful clothing of people passing by ! Occasionally someone stopped and lifted him up; caressing his smooth, tactile wood, between their fingers, before replacing him and moving on. This continued for a few hours and then the place was quiet ….the people gone…the bright, neon lights dimmed.

Congo glanced around and noticed many other hair accessories, There were the usual slides and clamps; scrunchies and clips in browns and blacks ….but also some in pastel shades.  Hmm, this was promising.

And …oh gosh ….over on a velvet cushion were the most beautiful diamante clips ….their rhinestones sparkling, even in the muted light.

“Oh, colour and fun at last”  sighed Congo and he hopped towards the sparkly group.

“Hello”  he muttered, suddenly shy in such glittery company,  ” I’m Congo ….would you like to dance ….have some fun ?”

But the slides and hair-sticks looked at him in horror and edged haughtily away ……peering down their iridescent, jewelled noses at this intruder …


Oh, my goodness NO !” they sparkled contemptuously, “We are FORMAL wear ….we couldn’t POSSIBLY cavort with the likes of you. This is a PRESTIGIOUS  store,  you  know”

And, with that, they all turned their snobbish backs on him.


Poor Congo traipsed back to his glass container and lay down sadly.  The other African combs had been right …. there was no fun anywhere.

The next day the bright, overhead lights illuminated the store once again ……. but Congo lay despondently on the counter ….his eyes closed and his heart cold.  So he did not see the pretty blonde lady who picked him up and carried him to the shop-assistant. All he knew was that he was, once again in the dark, as he was wrapped in soft lilac tissue and placed in a small bag.

Congo sighed.  Darkness again.  Oh well …..

He lay in the bag for a long time, eyes firmly closed, sad and alone, until he felt a soft hand lift him out and …..oh ….what was that .

….HE WAS RUN THROUGH SILKEN HAIR !  …He could hardly believe it …..

Then he was placed gently down in a large silk-lined basket.

He slowly opened his eyes and saw …….oh my goodness, what a sight ……

He saw turquoise Hair Sticks with bows on their heads ….pink and blue ones too. Mottled, tortoise-shell Hair Forks and brightly coloured Clamps……..


Hi there !” they called  “Wanna play ?”

Congo blinked ……this must be dream.

But won’t you break ?”   he whispered

“Oh no, of course not”  replied a cute little cream-coloured U Pin  “We are strong like you …we never break !”

But you are all so colourful and fun ”  gasped Congo

Laughter and music filled the air ….

“Of course we are “ smiled a Flowered Barrette  “ We are special !”

Special ?” said Congo  “ Why special ?”

“Because we are from STONE BRIDGE of course …silly billy”  they all giggled,  ” Now stop asking questions ……. let’s party “

And Congo was happy …..he had a wonderful new home and colourful new friends ….. He had a feeling life was going to be FUN !












About rosiewrites2

Growing old, disgracefully and enjoying every minute.
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