I dreamed that I had my hair cut short and dyed black (in real life I would go for red). It was too straight and it spiked in all directions, and I was unhappy about it.
The hairdresser insisted that that was not a problem. All I had to do was wander the streets looking for the cutest young man that I could spot, and he would know exactly how to style my hair.
I walked down Elgin street, and before long I came to a dandy young fellow. I walked up to him, and he looked at my hair, pulled out gel, a comb, and a mirror and styled my hair perfectly. All was accomplished in absolute silence.
I looked boyishly handsome as I walked off humming a gay tune.
(Interpretations of my dream are encouraged)