I bleached my hair. Then I dyed it red, then blue, then a shade I can only describe as ambitious. I was a 21st-century girl with a colourist on speed dial and no impulse control whatsoever.
By every rule I know, my hair should not have survived that. It did. It still does — and people still ask me what I use, usually right after I tell them what I put it through.
The answer was never good genes or a shelf of expensive product. It was one oil. The same one, through every colour, every bleach, every bad decision. So I started selling it — just that one oil, to people wrecking their hair the way I wrecked mine.
Everything else Titru makes came after, and came from the same question: what actually holds up?