Humor · Life Style

And Then…There’s My Hair

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Let’s talk about my hair. My style. Or – lack of it. If you were to ask me what was my best beauty feature, it would definitely not be my hair. I’ve tried to make this my best feature for years. But sadly,  it’s not working. In fact, my ears are not very attractive either, but they are much higher on the scale than my hair.

Why am I so down on my ‘do’? Well, for one thing, it has no style. What does this non style look like? It’s not a shag or a bob or a lob. It’s not asymmetrical or Bettie Page or big hair. It’s not blunt cut bob cut or bowl cut. It’s just….there. Hanging.

I’ve tried to give it a style, honestly I have, with all of the trimming and cutting and perming. It’s a vicious cycle! It’s almost like a minuet:

trim, cut, perm

trim, cut, perm

trim, cut, perm

Having a hairstyle you love is like wearing your favorite jeans. You don’t care how you look because they look good on YOU. You feel good wearing them. They are a good representation of how good you feel. I just don’t understand why, why, why, can I not find someone to help me achieve this goal?

Let’s talk about the thousands of dollars that I have spent with various hairdressers, only to never have my hair done they way I really wanted it. It was usually done how they wanted it.  I’ve broken up with several hairdressers because of this. I’ve never had much luck with the dressers of hair anyway. One that I liked in particular died suddenly. Another one that I liked moved –  back to Russia! For the last few years I’ve resigned myself to give my $13 to one of the MacDonalds of the hair world. Yes, forget the small beauty salon, I’ve moved on a huge corporate franchise – of which there are many.

Not to mention the college fund spent on shampoo and conditioner and gel and mousse! Did I forget the cream and the wax and the paste? Then there was the scrunching and the pinning and the backwards combing. And a tad bit of ironing. None of this has done me any good, I’m sorry to say.

One special issue is the giant cow lick right up there on the crown. Who thought of this name – the cow lick? I get it, it’s what your hair would look like if a cow came right up to you and licked your head. And if the dressers of hair see that I have this cow lick on my head, can’t they just make it go away? Aren’t they the professionals?

My daughter, a self taught style guru, has always advised that I blow dry my hair straight. “No perms!” she scolded. I don’t know, I thought to myself. I don’t think the straight hair thing is for me. But, what do I have to lose? So, one day, I was feeling frisky. I went in for a trim, and asked the gal to blow dry my hair straight. When the chair whirled around and gave the big reveal, my worst fears were proven. The straight hair thing doesn’t work on me, never will work on me, and I will never, ever entertain trying it ever again. Oh well, at least I got that out of my system!

These days it’s mainly about the wash and go hairstyle. That’s all I really want. I don’t know, it seems like we may not be able to get there. You know what? Forget it. I give up. I think I’ll just wear a hat.

Do you have any hairdresser horror stories? I’d like to hear about them! I’ll talk to you soon.

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One thought on “And Then…There’s My Hair

  1. Good grief, I could write a whole book on hair disasters. I started dying my hair at age 13 and I have been every color possible and some colors that nature never intended anyone to see. And I have shaved my head (my husband hates it as I really do look like Uncle Fester in earrings), I have had dreadlocks and hair extensions, have had snowflakes cut into my hair, had botched hair cuts that left me looking like Moe from the Three Stooges, and frantic trips to the hair dresser after accidentally putting a 5in. long bald spot on my head when I forgot I had taken off the hair guard on my clippers. Oh, I could go on and on. A couple of years ago on my blog, I did a blog a day between Memorial Day and Labor Day and it was a photos of me in 97 different hair styles and colors. I am fearless when it come to my hair. Nothing scares me. My motto is “It’s only hair”. It always grows back. If I were 30 years younger, I would go to school to learn how to be a colorist. If I was able to work on my own head, I would shave it down to an eighth of an inch and paint pictures on it using wild colors. Each week could be a different piece of a Master’s work.
    But alas. I cannot do a thing to my hair myself. I come up with awesome ideas and luckily can usually find someone crazy enough to help me out. This weekend, I had my hair dyed to resemble a Fuchsia plant! My roots are lime green, then purple and orchid and white blonde. I have a husband who goes to work and when he gets home, he has a totally different wife!

    Like

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