Wave your scissors in the air like you just don’t hair

Hey, speaking of bad hair stylists, check out what happened to me Tuesday. You know how when your regular stylist goes on maternity leave, it can seem more like eternity leave? There’s an inescapable process of thought that occurs throughout her absence that breaks down the most resilient of us.

You start off thinking, Hey, I’ll just wait for her to get back. No problem.

Then, after a month or so, slight worry sets in. Events you need to look presentable for pop up just like that cowlick that appeared two days ago. You’ve never had a cowlick before. Suddenly, hair you assumed would grow evenly stops growing altogether or grows like a weed. SIMULTANEOUSLY. “Enough hair product will calm this down,” you whisper to yourself, nodding in assurance. This is still doable.

Wedding invites pile up. Your bangs stubbornly decide they don’t want to be a part of your face anymore and revolt by sticking straight up, like they’re about to be mugged (They know before you even do). Lunch dates and vacations are planned. Panic increases as free time decreases. Oh, I’m fine going to anyone – it’s just a trim, after all. You make the call and agree to a woman named Paula. She has lots of vowels in her name. She sounds nice, competent, and like she knows her way around Words with Friends, of which you have recently taken up.

P-R-O-N-E – Used in a sentence: Even as a child, Paula was prone to receiving a check minus on her report card for art class due to her inability to cut a straight line on construction paper. (Photo credit: androidfreeware.net)

Now, switch out “you” for “I” and give thanks that you are indeed not me. Although I tend to wear my naivety blatantly on my sleeve alongside my heart, a bad haircut is still much more noticeable. My former positive outlook on the situation, however, was positively nowhere to be found.

Process, process, process.  

After the deed was done, I found myself looking into a mirror only to discover a wild-eyed, paranoid freak unable to stare back because she was too preoccupied studying her head at every possible angle for the slightest of discrepancies.  

Sure enough, an uneven, ragged trim job stared back at me, daring me to make a move. It was on. First, a frown. Deeper. Deeper.  Then, a slow tilt of my head slightly to the right. And, there! The back of my hair came to a perfect alignment, falling uniformly across my shoulder blades. I could angle my head like this for the next three months and no one would ever know! I thought. That’s when I realized I am officially a cheap ass. Well, I’ve never said I was good at solving immediate problems.

A word of advice – when your stylist says you would be fine going to anyone at the salon? Do not believe her. She is a lying conniver. And sure – it’s not her real nature but more likely the pregnancy hormones doing the talking. Even so, although it is not technically her fault, I am warning you now that you will be pettily determined to think her baby isn’t as cute as everyone else says it is when you finally see pictures at your next appointment. This a side effect of your bad haircut that will recede in time.

On the bright side, she’ll never have to buy a helmet. (Credit: tvrage.com)

My fate that Tuesday should never be duplicated. One horrible haircut in this batty world is enough, but two is just unforgivable. Charlyne Yi’s character on House – I’m talking to you. But honestly – isn’t cutting hair evenly the first thing they teach you in beauty school? I work in the electric industry as a communication specialist, and that would be like me misspelling “public power.” (Ironically, we have had a number of people forget to put that little “l” in “public” from time to time. Yes, as a matter of fact it is always hilarious.)

There’s something oddly familiar about this picture… (Photo credit: lol.world-wide.com)

As irony would have it, I couldn’t bear the idea of going back to my fill-in stylist to correct her problem (I am very much an avoider – why do you think I have this blog?), so I made an appointment with someone I had never met at a different salon across town. (I also don’t learn from my mistakes) This next stylist more or less fixed my hair, and by that I mean she informed me the middle was still shorter than the rest and that she didn’t want to mess with it.

Fantastic. Now I’ll have to walk with my head tilted ever-so-slightly up. Making eye contact with people. Heaven forbid…

I let it go, mostly because I was running out of money.

You see, the relationship between ourselves and our stylists is very fragile at first. Trust must be built and mutual respect striven for. In many ways, this relationship is not so unlike the bond we create with our significant others. Here are a few reason why:

  • You consult them for big life decisions.
    Bangs are one of life’s biggest mistakes decisions. Trust me.
  • You use the term “we” like you’re the next Brangelina.
    I found myself telling the fill-in stylist that “we were growing out my bangs” last time we met. Like my regular stylist physically stands next to me, cheering them on. Like she wishes really hard and they magically grow. Like she was the one taking the prenatal supplements that strengthen your hair and nails, thus making them grow faster. Actually…
  • You seek their approval.
    When the fill-in asked me what I wanted to do with my hair, I desperately wanted to check in with my normal stylist. “I want a trim, but can I just call her and ask if it’s all right first?” The fill-in then recommended cutting my hair dry. Well, I don’t know if my stylist would approve of that…I thought uncertainly. I am going to get in so much trouble when she comes back. 
  • You feel lost when they’re gone.
    The pangs within my heart are very real. And very sad. Mostly in a pathetic way.
  • After you’ve been seeing them awhile, they want to spice things up.
    A part on the right side of my head? No. No, that won’t do at all. Have you lost it?! Let’s keep it on the left side. We’re comfortable with that. We know what we’re doing with that. Besides, my hair looks good from that angle. 
  • You can tell them everything.
    They lend you an ear because there’s a good guarantee they’ll tear yours off when they snag your earrings combing through it. This really doesn’t have as much to do with your significant other as much as it is a cold, hard fact.
  • After a long day at work, they soothe you with a head massage.
    Sure, you have to pay for it, but that’s to be expected in any relationship. In the courtship of your significant other, it’s called “sex.”
  • You trust them.
    Know how I know my hair stylist is the one for me? I can tell her, “Do whatever you want” and I’ve never been led astray, left crying, or hating men – even once.
  • They want what’s best for you.
    That’s why they push the $25 product at the end of your appointment. Right? …Right!?

    The real question is, who DOESN’T look good in this much beige? (Photo credit: supershopsite.com)

  • They won’t let you leave the house like that. A good hair stylist will gently sit you down and explain why they won’t let you get “chunky” layers. Because it would be as deplorable as your boyfriend leaving the house in pleated khakis.

To close out, how about some hair puns directed passive-aggressively toward my fill-in(s)?

  • How hair she!
  • She must not hair about me…
  • It’s not hair (the hair is in July)!
  • She must be hard of hairing
  • Man, was she missing an hair of confidence
  • My style is now worse for the hair
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14 responses to “Wave your scissors in the air like you just don’t hair

  1. Leaving the ‘b’ out of public isn’t as dastardly as leaving the ‘l’, but that’s just me. 🙂 I’ve had my share of hair-raising disasters, but now that my bestie is a stylist and takes care of me, my hair-woes are few and far between…good luck. Hope you find a good fill-in!

    • Oh my gosh, that’s of course what I meant to type, but I guess I censored myself! And don’t worry, just as I was finishing up my haircut at the original salon, I found out my normal stylist would be back that very next week. What can I say, I’ve always been super lucky. 😉

  2. Sorry you had such a hairifying experience. But I’m glad you learned, to hair is human, to forgive is divine. I loved your blog…. :o)

  3. The trauma of a bad hair cut is the equivalent of being forced to wear ugly, cheap polyester for 6 mths ! A hint from an older ( Im guessing, hehe), wiser (debateable) victim of many bad hair cuts – only trust your hair to a gay man. A woman does a bad cut and they act all superior, &as if they know what theyre doing and you re the one with the issue; AND trash you when you leave “can you believe her, she doesnt know what she’s talking about” … A man will not let you walk around looking badly or unhappy with his work!

    • Oh, Lordy – then I’m definitely in trouble! Being from a small town in the midwest, we don’t exactly have our pick of male hair stylists… 😉 Yet another reason to add to my “Why we need to move” list. (And it’s a biggun!)

  4. You poor thing! Bangs are so tricky! Hey, look at the bright side. I’m sure it looks great to everyone else other than you. And believe me, it could be worse. For instance, you could be a twenty-something year old with a bald spot. That would definitely be worse. 😉

    • It looks a LOT better since the other stylist fixed it the next day. I shouldn’t complain….but it makes for a good story! By the way, now you’re going to have me back in front of the mirror, scrutinizing over potential bald spots. Thanks a bunch! 😉

  5. A former coworker left my part time job to go to beauty school. Me being a good friend (and too broke to shell out salon level money) let her do my hair to help her out (and $40 for a cut/color was just a perk). She gave me one awesome cut/color that I have been trying to replicate ever since, with no luck. I’m convinced it was a trick the universe played on me. The next time I said I wanted some red and some blonde, but the execution was up to her. Which turned out to be a ginormous mistake. My hair ended up mostly fire engine red, and the blonde chunks were light pink for a few days. I learned my lesson pretty quickly after that.

    • Oh my gosh, you poor girl! A few years ago I decided I wanted to go DARK and I ended up cutting all my length off in favor of a cute bob and bangs. (Yes, it was very emo of me) To this day, I’m convinced I didn’t get a date that entire year because I looked like one of the Beatles.

  6. I have many hair horror stories. One of the funniest was when my boss and I closed a major deal and he thought it would be great to go to fancy salon for haircuts and coloring. He wanted brown and I wanted blonde – we walked out with blue and red hair, I kid you not. Believe me, we got noticed right away. Now my hair stylist is older so I know she won’t get pregger!

  7. Oh, I’ve got some horror stories for you. I once won a makeover contest and the hairstylist talked me into dying my hair these cherry red chunky highlights and chopped most of it off. It took 2 years to get it back to normal. Please tell me your hair doesn’t look like that girl on House!

    • Your hair back then is making me hungry… And, no – it luckily doesn’t! It was so long that you could mess up a trim five times and it still wouldn’t be above my shoulders! But I wouldn’t push my luck THAT many times. Only two. Or three. Definitely not four.

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