Mac threw down her jacket and ripped off her cravat. The heat was getting to her. It was a bloody sweltering day in Melbourne and outside was not safe. The sun-baked streets were hazy with humidity and the sweat dripped in rivulets in-between her breasts, under her arms and through the waistband of her trousers. She hated having to change all the time but in this weather, a spare shirt was needed every day. She could scarcely wash her brassieres quick enough. At least her room was a cool sanctuary from this blasted heat. She unbuttoned her shirt a little and fanned her neck. Her hair was unravelling and felt hot and heavy. She impatiently took out the pins and combed through with her fingers. Peering into the mirror, she expertly twisted and rolled. Her practiced hands could pin hair in a matter of minutes. For all her liberal ways, Mac had spent her formative years in the Victorian era and some things were hard to shake off. Hair had to be off the face to be useful in her profession.
She looked at her tired face and grimaced. She reapplied her lipstick and a puff of powder and sighed. She was the first to admit that her hair, although lovely in shade, lacked the sort of texture that someone could run their hands through. It was fine and a bit stringy. What woman wasn't vain about something? Doctor Elizabeth Macmillan was a real redhead, thank you very much. Each lover of hers could attest to that. But every so often, everyone needed to maintain a little colour boost. She looked in her box and saw the diminished remains of the henna block. Hmmmm.
The sweat trickled down her neck as she considered her options. Sometimes she wished she could shave her head and…no she wouldn't want to wear a wig like the Ancient Egyptians. No, that wouldn't do. She made a decision while she applied powder under her arms and changed into a fresh shirt. It was now or never. Dabbing some light scented oil on, she stalked off into the street where the furnace reigned. She ignored convention at the best of times and now was a good a time as any other. She had left her jacket behind and damn that cravat. All she needed was her trusted hat to shield her face from the sun. She arrived at the barbershop in desperate need of some water and a cooldown. She'd never been here before but was sure they wouldn't mind.