Hair-brained idea

I got a hair cut last week. Now I’m writing about it. “Lame!” you’re probably yelling. Indeed, it is a lame blog post. Of course, if you don’t like it you’re welcome to leave my virtual dump spot in the woods of the internet. Shyeah.

Anyway, I went to get my rat’s nest chopped because I’ve had it with my gross hair. After complaining for months I finally broke down and shelled out some dough to go to my friend’s hair dresser at some snooty salon because said friend told me this girl was good; citysearch confirmed this. Normally that wouldn’t have been enough, but this salon also served wine, and I’m not one to resist positive hair transformation + an alcoholic beverage. 30 minutes before my appointment I hopped in my truck, arrived at the salon, and I took pictures for my “before” shot. Sure, I could have asked someone at work or asked my new best friend the hair dresser to take them for me but I would have felt silly (incidentally, I also felt silly for taking pictures of myself in the parking lot).

After documenting my vanity on film I headed in, put on the shirt/smock they gave me, and got my hair washed. So far so good. Next I got in the chair, ready to get my hair hacked off. The conversation with the dresser--let’s call her Gertrude from now on--didn’t go as expected.

Gertrude [lifting my hair about 3” higher around my face]: Is this what you were looking for?
(Keep in my I asked to “cut it all off,” which to me means, well, cut all my hair off.)
Me: Um, shorter.
Gertrude [frowns]: How tall are you?
Me: Um, 5-8.
G [with a tsssk noise of uncertainty]: You see, with your height and your long neck I wouldn’t cut your hair any shorter. Otherwise, your head might look too small in proportion to your body.

Let’s pause. The bitch basically told me I’d have a pinhead if I didn’t keep my hair longer than chin length. What she should have said was “Oh, with your graceful neck and lovely face you’ll look 15 pounds lighter than you do now. Really, you are quite model-esque. I simply must see if you can be in our salon ads.” But she didn’t because Gertrude is a bitch. I’ll continue.

Me [obviously offended and rightfully so]: Well I’ve had it short before and no one’s ever told me my head looked too small. I, um, look good with short hair.
(“Good” might be an exaggeration but I’m pretty freaking sure I don’t look pinhead-y)
G: Oh, I just want to be sure I know what you want since it will be so drastic of a cut. [big fake smile]

Man, what a ho. So she cuts my hair, which is still a smidge (sp? I so do not know how to spell smidge) longer than I want it, but it looks good once she’s finished. I’m happy, and I somehow don’t notice that I failed to see how she styled it (since she blew my contact out of my eye but continued drying/styling my hair anyway... we both finished our activities at about the same time) nor what product she used. It’s possible I would’ve remembered to ask if the hair washer and the hair-sweeper-upper weren’t commenting on how much younger and better I looked (the hair sweeper upper remarked in Spanish to Gerty, not to me--which makes me think her comment was more truthful). As if I walked in there looking like an old hag or something! Honestly, how does a 24 year old girl look OLD?? I still don’t know if I should be offended at their “before” comments or pleased with their “after” ones.

While Miss Gertrude is chopping my frizz ‘fro off, she commented ~4 times about how I needed some “paint on my face.” After my cut she led me to the makeup girl so she could “make me look really pretty.” By this point I’m more than a little peeved because I’m pay $8 million to endure comments that are genuinely tearing down my self esteem. What hell kinda salon is this? Anyway, makeup girl basically just throws some blush, lip gloss, and mascara on me and I pay, leave a tip I begrudge, and leave. But despite the experience, I look pretty and am relieved to look different. Oh, I again take pictures, but this time I take them in the mirror of my apt despite the fact that Craig was home and could much more easily have done it.

So here’s my 43 year old before:

And my 24 year old after (remember it’s a mirror image in our warm bathroom lighting):

The haircut isn’t 100% what I wanted, and the next day I made the mistake of “fixing” it myself. It therefore looks worse now than it did then. I’m awesome. But more importantly, having not-disgusting hair has been a true wake-up call for me. I pride myself on being very natural, having no fashion sense, and saving my money to splurge on $200 SIDI T1 cycling shoes, not a hot pair of pumps. I like being plain because the others’ expectations are so low, but I still have the potential to doll up, making the effect much more dramatic. That said, I realize that I’ve taken it to too great of an extreme and it seems like I don’t take pride in how I look. A mistake! So I started wearing some makeup some days and--next month when I again have money--will buy clothes that are a little newer and more flattering than the shirt I have on today, which I purchased when I was 19. Mishele K, it just might be time to grow up... and let your hair grow out so you don’t look like a pinhead.