What is it about a bad haircut that just ruins the week? I have had one recently, and it has made me quite miserable! Not that my mood is usually so alterable as to be affected by a minor occurrence, but this...this is unspeakably wretched! An unexpected, bad haircut can affect mood and confidence, as I've come to find out.
It started innocuously enough. Tired of driving across town to my usual stylist, I made an appointment for a salon nearby. I called, ascertained it was an Aveda salon, which usually have extensive training and good reputations, and made an appointment with a cheerful person who we'll call Anna. She assured me that yes, indeed, she was well skilled at cutting fine-textured hair, and at assisting in determining the best short style for my face shape and hair type.
To her credit she did ask me a lot of questions about what I liked, how much time I wanted to spend styling my hair, what I did and didn't like about my previous cut. And then she proceeded to skillfully use her scissors to turn my hair into a snipped and wavy disaster. Oh sure it looked okay enough when I left the salon, as it always does. One stylist I used to go to had been called the "cocktail queen" for her adept use at concocting styling libations for the hair using as many as five products. Her styles, too, always came out looking great...for about five hours. The next four weeks then turn into despair as there is no possible way to recreate the look at home.
This cut was supposed to be "easy style". I followed the verbal instructions and tried to "finger-comb" my hair "while drying from the root" and "allowing the natural curl to create texture". The result looks like a clipped pomeranian with a bad perm. Is it too severe a punishment to wish Anna to be sent to the burning lake of fire? Probably, but my hair looks like it has emerged from there.
Why is it so hard to get a get a decent haircut? I don't ask for much. I don't have expectations of emerging from the salon looking glamorous, or with perfect beauty miraculously being bestowed upon me. No, I ask only a cut that can be consistently styled at home, by me, without spending an hour fighting with my goops and brushes and hair dryer and curling iron, which is the sad state of affairs in which I currently find myself. And for all that effort I am rewarded with a look akin to a short bouffant gone bad, discontent, and a bad mood causing me to throw down my brush and scream, "I HATE this stinking haircut!"
So it will grow out. I know that. But until then, you'll find me weeping in frustration in my bathroom, muttering about the price of bad haircuts and slicking on more styling paste in a desperate attempt to tame the 'do and be able to walk with my head held high again.
copyright 2005 Valerie Schneider