I fried my hair as a bride and here's how I brought it back to life

It was a week after the wedding. The last batch of mithai had been given away, the heavy lehengas retired into their boxes, and I was finally ready to relax in my oversized H&M tee. The only thing left? A long overdue ‘everything’ shower. I scrubbed, shampooed, deep conditioned, wrapped my hair in a towel-turban and went about my day. But then, the truth unwrapped just as the towel did. I ran my fingers through my hair and midway, I froze.

There it was—a tight, tangled mass at the nape of my neck. I tried combing it out with my brush, my fingers, and even doused it with serum. Nothing worked. It was like the Drake Passage of my hair: impossible to get through. The ends? Crispy, snapped. The texture? Like I’d just returned from playing six hours of Holi. And it wasn’t just this knotty section that felt like it grew from someone else’s DNA. My hair texture felt off, like it had been replaced with a damaged, rougher, drier version of what I had before my bridal era.

I touched it again, and the memories of how I ended up with this fried mess came rushing back…

Mane character energy

My hair has always been my signature—long, coloured, low-maintenance, and surprisingly well-behaved with minimal heat. I have an oily scalp, wavy ends, and a slightly curly crown. Yes, it’s frizzy. But then again, I live in Mumbai, where even anti-frizz serums wave the white flag by lunchtime. My routine? Wash it twice a week with a clarifying shampoo, slather on conditioner, and give in to the occasional hair spa. I have a ride-or-dye hairstylist of 16 years, who has seen me through every cut, colour and minor hair crisis.

Then came the wedding, and everything leading up to it. During the functions, I wanted to wear my hair in a way that felt most like myself—curled, deep brown, worn loose and free of heavy extensions. I even grew my hair out by four inches to achieve the dreamy bridal look I had envisioned for months, still unaware of how damaged it’d get. To preserve the length, my hairstylist only shaped the face-framing layers, saving the ends for just before the wedding. A chocolate brown colour refresh followed a month before the big day. She was travelling during my events, but she advised me to come in for weekly hair spas to strengthen it for the onslaught of heat to come. But the non-stop whirlwind of functions and fittings left no room for me to schedule an appointment.

The heat styling during the functions was intense, but necessary, to hold the curls in place through hours of dancing and photos. I thought my hair could handle it—after all, it had been fuss-free all my life. But in hindsight, the functions were just the final straw. The real damage began weeks before when I decided to make the neighbourhood blowdry bar my second home. I got regular blowouts or tonged curls—before lunch, another before shopping (to envision myself in the lehenga), before every chachi-ke-mama-ka dinner, and once even made my hairstylist run a straightener over freshly set curls, because I changed my mind.

Caught up in the chaos and the pressure to look perfect, I kept telling myself, “It’s fine, I’ll just slap on a mask later.” But later never came.

“I do” need to fix this

After the wedding, I tried to pretend nothing was wrong. Surely my hair would stage a miracle comeback while I slept, right? But it grew unmanageable. My hair constantly reminded me of how my bridal looks damaged it. To feel put-together when I went out, I used a straightening iron like a fire extinguisher, and basically poured gasoline on the blaze. When my hair brush started filing harassment charges for getting trapped mid-swipe, I made the hour-long trek from my new South Mumbai home back to Bandra to see my original hair guru. She set me up with a plan to focus on repair and prevent any further heat damage.

It started with a haircut. I cut off six inches of damage, and my hair was the shortest it’s ever been (haircuts can often heal). Then came the hard part: a full breakup with heat styling. I packed away my trusty hair tools like they were cursed artefacts. I had to retrain myself to live without the glossy, blow-dried look.

Next, I swapped out my shampoo for something gentler—the QOD Argan Shampoo (₹1,500). It’s sulphate-free, protein-rich, and made my scalp feel squeaky clean without that stripped-down feeling. The argan oil, rich in antioxidants and fatty acids, helped nourish and repair damaged strands.

I have extremely oily roots, so the traditional Indian champi has always proved to be counterproductive for me. Instead, I nourished my hair by masking before I shampooed with the System Professional Luxeoil Keratin Restore Hair Mask (₹2,000). Applied before washing, it created a protective barrier that locked in moisture, softened the hair, reduced breakage and made detangling far less of a fight. Plus, the keratin in the mask helped strengthen the hair’s structure from within.

After every wash, I used the Milkshake Conditioning Whipped Cream (₹1,500) leave-in conditioner. I’d scrunch the vanilla-scented mousse into damp hair in an upward direction. This way it held the natural texture of my waves, kept them smooth and glossy, and reduced my dependency on blow dries.

To supplement my at-home TLC, I started scheduling in-salon treatments every two weeks. I alternated between hydration hair spas and bond-building formulas like Olaplex (₹2,500–₹4,000). These treatments rebuilt the strength and elasticity I’d lost over time.

For styling, I went fully heatless; I was on a mission to fix my damaged hair after the wedding. I would tie my hair into a loose braid after a wash to tackle frizz and give it its natural texture. I used bobby pins to hold the curly section of my bangs in place and Moxie’s On The Fly Stick (₹499) to tame flyaways. As much as I missed the salon finish, there was something empowering about learning to work with my texture instead of fighting it.

Was it more effort than I’d ever put into my hair? Without a doubt. Did it all work instantly? Not at all. But three months in, when I left for my honeymoon, I finally noticed it. The frizz had softened, the roughness was gone, and my hair felt healthier, happier and stronger.

Avoiding a repeat ‘tress-pass’

Next time there’s a big event, I’m starting hair prep before the invites are even designed. Bi-weekly spas, deep-conditioning masks, and maybe even a trim before the chaos kicks in. I’ll also be that person who says, “No more heat today” or “Let’s skip the spray.” Just because someone’s holding a tong doesn’t mean they get full styling custody of my strands.

My hair still has a few rough edges, and I expect it will be weeks and months before it’s back to the low-maintenance swing of my pre-bridal days. But it finally doesn’t feel like ‘something borrowed’. For the first time in a while, it looks and feels like it belongs to me.