Hair Today...

15 or so years ago, my friend Lori had me in stitches when she observed, "I never knew I was so shallow." She contemplated for a second, and then followed, "Hm! Now I know."

Whew, those words were ringing in my ears this week. The problem? My Haircut from Hell.

I've written, before, about my general lack of hair care: infrequent cuts, $7 home-coloring, call it good. I never cared, I thought, what my hair looked like. That is until, I got the haircut from hell.

I know I made it look tolerable with product and jackhammers. But behind the scenes, I was spending 1/2 hour in the morning getting it into shape. Touching it up in the ladies' room at work. Stopping by home and taking a curling iron and a little pomade to it before heading out in the evenings.

Thursday afternoon I headed out after work, to do a bit of clothes shopping, without touching up the do. I went straight to Macy's without passing go. About an hour into shopping, the product gave out, gravity took over, and my cute little flippy-up began to flippy down. I was moving from dressing room to dressing room, standing in front of mirrors, seeing this:


My hair looked like crap, makeup had worn off, and dammit all to hell, I needed a larger size than I needed a year ago. I'm embarrassed to admit: I felt awful. Awwwwwwwwfulllllll. I schlepped back to my car, with the word "unattractive" whirling around my head. "Unattractive, I'm so unattractive."

No, no, I'm not fishing for compliments, just stop it. I just don't go around thinking or wondering, one way or another if I'm attractive or not: I look like what I look like, what I can do?! I bring it up only because I was surprised at myself for being so upset about something so silly.

But, I was upset! This stupid haircut that means nothing in the grand scheme, upset me. I'd have to try something else!

Friday morning, I got up and put hot rollers in my hair, thinking "I'll look like Marilyn Monroe."

Uh. Hello. I have a bowl cut with a weird hangy-down curtain of hair underneath it. I did NOT look like Marilyn Monroe, I looked like Mushroom Monroe! Here's a view from the back:



When I lamented to a few coworkers, they didn't "there-there" me with false compliments. They said "I see what you mean."

And I got on the phone, and called Studio 9, and found out that Heather, who has cut my hair before, had a 4:30 opening.

There is a God.

Poor Heather. I usually walk in saying "I dunno, just shape it up a bit." Not this time. A dam broke, and I became hysterical, telling her about Carol Brady, and handing her photos of alternative cuts, and yammering, "but you have to cut this thing off, right? Will you cut it off? Do you see it, do you see what I'm talking about?!!" I was nearly shrieking!

Heather asked me "Did you pay for this!?"

I was silenced. Of course I paid for it; did I have an option not to?! Of course I did, she said; I didn't have to pay for a cut that wasn't what I wanted!!

I didn't? It would never have crossed my mind that I didn't have to pay for this bad cut. The stylist did, after all, show up and work on my hair. I did walk away with a haircut, albeit a bad one. I could have just refused and stormed out?!! Really? People DO that?

Well, that is news to me. I did pay for it, and I even, schmuckishly, tipped for it. Someone buy me some cajones already.

The good news is that Heather was unphased with the challenge before her. She looked at and veto'd my suggestions, asked what I'd been after in the first place, listened a few minutes, then said "ok. I know what to do," and she got to it. She worked confidently, uttering the occasional "geez!" at the enormity of the destruction that had been done to my hairs a week ago.

I left 30 minutes later, on my way to meet friends:


My God, I can't believe how relieved I was to get that haircut cleaned up. I coveted my new haircut! Just ask Melissa, who gave me a heart attack when she ran her fingers through my new do, only to have me scream "don't touch it!!!"

That's how crazy I'd become, that's what living with a bad haircut for an entire week will do to a girl.

I never knew I was so shallow.

Hm. Now I know.