Last week I went to get my hair cut (yes, sorry, this is a story about hair). I had thought long and hard about what I wanted. I researched, checked styles online, and bought a magazine so I could show my hairdresser exactly what I was after and there would be no confusion. I was determined I would not be spending that ridiculous amount of money on something I was not going to be happy with. I was even bold enough to ask for some changes to it at the end, which I have never ever had the courage to do before. He did an excellent job. It was almost exactly what I had asked for, with some variations to account for my particular hair type. It was a very cute hair style that suited me. But I had a niggling doubt. A few days later, that niggle was a certainty. It wasn't what I wanted. However, it was what I had asked for. Being English, the thought of going back and telling him I wasn't happy with it was horrifying. Especially sinc...