Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Wanted: A New Hair Dresser







I love getting my hair done. I'm not sure what thrills me so much about it. When I was sitting at the salon on Monday, having my chair elevated by foot pump, plastic cape draped over me, I took a moment to try to decide what it is about the experience that I enjoy so much. Is it the celebrity gossip mags that I get to read while my color develops? Is it chatting with a fellow adult while sitting, childless, in a quiet locale for a few hours? It's certainly not the actual process of getting the foil strips shellacked to my head with color goo, or looking like I could transmit a small, private radio station with my head for 30 minutes. Huh. I couldn't decide. However, by the time I was finished with my appointment, I had figured it out. It's the promise of walking out of the salon in a mere few hours, fresh color applied, hair swinging bouncily from a fresh cut and style, and feeling like a renewed woman. It's like a mini-makeover that I get to have every 6 weeks...and it makes me feel good...when things go right that is. This was not the case on Monday.

It started out well. I verbalized what I wanted to my stylist (my normal blond and coppery-red highlights to brighten up my blah brown hair)...she was receptive, color was mixed, foil was applied, US magazine was thoroughly scoured for gossip while I developed for 30 minutes...life was good. We washed and cut my hair, then dried...all on schedule...fun, fun, fun...and then it happened. I looked in the mirror, and my day went sharply downhill. I swear I heard the music from Psycho. Holy holy. Apparently when I asked my hair dresser to make my red highlights "a bit brighter" than she had last time, what she actually heard me say was "I want to look like the Little Mermaid. You know, I'd like my highlights neon orange please...in fact, make most of my hair that color...except for a few blond streaks, oh and leave the brown roots...cuz that's the sexiest look of all!!". My heart actually stopped beating for a moment...right before she asked me how I liked it with a large, satisfied grin on her face. My reply? "I love it!" Ughhhhhh, I suck. I lied...and then paid her over $100 for ruining my hair. ::insert sobbing here:: Don't I get it free if its ugly? For $100 I could surely find a wig to wear for the next, ohhhh, 6 weeks? No, huh? Damn.

Sooooo, now I'm a red head...or, well...let's be honest, I'm an orange head. A very unhappy, out a hundred dollars, still jumping every time I catch my reflection in the mirror orange head...and I'm in the market for a new hair dresser in the Milwaukee area...anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

2 comments:

A said...

Pics or it didnt happen! :)

Im sorry you dont like your hair. Luckily red doesnt have staying power and Im guessing that 2 weeks from now it will have faded to the perfect color!

BMJ said...

I was actually going to post a pic of the color, but my camera phone doesn't capture the true horror. I'll try again later with my real camera. I'm not bluffin' baby...its down right orange. And here's to hoping that it fades to perfection.

Moments background