bobble beginnings ..
When I was a young girl I had hair of gold that ran all the way down my back.
It shimmered and glittered in the sun and swayed in the breeze.
All that saw my incredible locks would wonder in delight,
at how such magnificent hair could exist.......stop the music.
Ok, so it wasn't quite like that, not at all actually.
But I did have really long hair, brown, not gold.
It did run all the way down my back, that's true and people really did comment on just how long it was. Eye roll.
I loathed my long hair. I resented the brushing, the endless, endless brushing of knots and tangles.
But when you're little (and let's face it, even now as an adult), mum is the boss and she wouldn't let me cut my hair until I turned 16.
I think it's a European thing of long ago that she was holding on to, like, hello mum!
It was the 90's!
I needed shaggy layers that I could tease to stand upright with a lot of hair spray!
I couldn't wait to turn 16 and cut it all away and save up for a perm.
So to sweeten the long hair deal and appease me until I actually turned 16, mum would buy lots of different hair accessories for my pony tail and plait ends.
I had a collection of scrunchies that Madonna would have enjoyed sharing with me.
Yet my favourite accessories were (can you guess?) a pair of delicious red bobbles.
These ones were plastic would pop open when I crunched them with my teeth (much to my mother's dislike). I wore (and crunched) them a lot.
(Side note: I also discovered that combined with a long wet plait they were a simple, yet effective, weapon against older brothers. Not that I encourage that type of behaviour, it should only be used in desperate measures to rescue Barbie or during a wrestling match that you are seriously losing).
Anyways, many moons later, who would have thought that I too would want to kit my 2 mini girls with bobbles too?!
Aww shucks. I suppose we all love what we used to have.
Sparking old memories brings a comfort from a day gone by, maybe a little smile and sometimes a story.
Like how when you played with your bobbles and twisted them around your hand and it flicked your knuckles, it really hurt.
Ok, maybe that memory isn't a good one?...
Anyhow, this is where I tell you how the business was born. I couldn't find a red bobble or any really, in the stores. So in 2010, with baby 3 in my belly, swollen kankles and no place I could go very far to, the research began to source bobbles that I could make myself and reignite a ponytail revolution. In September 2011, the first red bobble was rolled out to the world.
After making literally thousands and thousands of bobbles, (mainly pink and purple ones!) the time came to brand them with the rb initials. Yikes, that was such a thrill!
And here we are today, spreading the bobble love and helping mini people all around to make every day, a F U N colourful day by adding a cute, simple accessory to their day.
Thank you to everyone who has shared a story with me over the years about their own hair spraying, crimping and bobble wearing days. Watching people's faces light up with an old memory when they see them at a market is like gold.
Hey, thanks for stopping by and reading to the end ( I do tend to go on a bit) it's a pleasure to share. Go on and wear your bobbles proudly.
The day of my 16th birthday... I cut that bob I wanted so badly, cried at my reflection for 3 days and decided to grow it all back again (just don't tell my mum about the crying part).