Showdown at the Salon
I’m engaged in a showdown. There are many times in life where one needs to muster their strength and rally the troops. And now is that time in my life.
You see, I am a push over for hairstylists that “know” more than me. I have been given hair cuts that look terrible on me with the stylist (not hair dresser for the record) raving at how slick I look. And me handing over $75.
The last time was only a few weeks ago. I had thought I was strong but it seems these people with professional hair stylist credentials are able to brow beat and manipulate me. And, for the record, they are holding scissors while we are discussing the potential of my bone straight hair. Oooohhh…. Jennifer Aniston, I get... Oh, wow, if we could just layer/blunt/stagger cut this and use all the latest techniques ...
I ended up walking out of the salon with my mangled hair blowing in the breeze. For the umpteenth time, my hair is layered. It looks like a rat’s nest. While I requested professional, the stylist kept assuring me that the “just hopped out of bed” look is really sexy. I said I am grateful to finally be making as much as a hooker – not that I wanted to LOOK like a hooker.
It will take me months to grow this out. And I’ll learn ‘em: I will never venture back to that salon. Instead, I will find yet another butcher with scissors who “knows” my hair better than I do. Why is it that I can be strong and professional in so many other areas and I turn into a bowl of jelly in a salon chair. It must be the weapons.
You see, I am a push over for hairstylists that “know” more than me. I have been given hair cuts that look terrible on me with the stylist (not hair dresser for the record) raving at how slick I look. And me handing over $75.
The last time was only a few weeks ago. I had thought I was strong but it seems these people with professional hair stylist credentials are able to brow beat and manipulate me. And, for the record, they are holding scissors while we are discussing the potential of my bone straight hair. Oooohhh…. Jennifer Aniston, I get... Oh, wow, if we could just layer/blunt/stagger cut this and use all the latest techniques ...
I ended up walking out of the salon with my mangled hair blowing in the breeze. For the umpteenth time, my hair is layered. It looks like a rat’s nest. While I requested professional, the stylist kept assuring me that the “just hopped out of bed” look is really sexy. I said I am grateful to finally be making as much as a hooker – not that I wanted to LOOK like a hooker.
It will take me months to grow this out. And I’ll learn ‘em: I will never venture back to that salon. Instead, I will find yet another butcher with scissors who “knows” my hair better than I do. Why is it that I can be strong and professional in so many other areas and I turn into a bowl of jelly in a salon chair. It must be the weapons.
posted by y-vonne at 11:22 AM
1 Comments:
Cause they know what is best? And isn't a mother with 3 boys supposed to look like she just rolled outta bed?
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