Reality TV is pretty big lately, even though technically, there's no such thing. Even when we get live feeds of whichever million-dollar-house participants are shackled in, we can only see one camera at a time. Out of over 50 cameras, we see what the Producers want us to see, what the producers deem exciting or TV-worthy. But that hasn't stopped people from showing the 'reality' of everything from cooking to making clothes out of seaweed.

Makeovers pull crowds as well. Everyone likes the idea of being instantly glamorous, and I know I wouldn't refuse if I was offered one, even if I know that 60% of the glamour comes from lighting.

I have always heard it said that people look prettier in candlelight. I didn't pay much attention until I used the ladies room at Java ABC Place. It has this dim romantic lighting, and as I looked in the bathroom mirror, I swear I looked more attractive than I had five minutes before.

How much more lighting is used at a photoshoot than a bathroom coffeehouse? I rest my case.

I've had a makeover of sorts lately. I began a new life. I moved to a new city [my home city actually], got a not-so-new house, put my baby in a new school, acquired 23 invisible new neighbours, started my own new business, got some new pairs of shoes ... and cut my hair.

The thing about women and their hair is that changing the style - allegedly - can make you feel like a whole new person. I'm not too sure about that; I feel like pretty much the same person, except with shorter hair.

I suppose it's because for me, the transformation worked backwards. I didn't change my hair to feel brand new. I felt brand new, so I cut my hair. I sensed a drastic change in my make-up, my outlook, my lifestyle. So I shed my skin - or rather, my hair.

The dreads are not completely gone - that would be sacrilege! I love my hair. But they're considerably shorter, almost boyish, which is fine, for now. In a few years, they'll be all grown up again. But by then, I'll likely be a different person. Maybe the kind of person that can actually dye my hair purple.

For now I'm content to grin at my reflection and pretend not to hear the laments for my lost hair; and believe me, they are many.