We've all been there.
The day when you look at yourself in the mirror and say, "I have to get my hair done . . . NOW!!!!"
I had that day two weeks ago. After scheduling the appointment with a stylist I've never seen before, I spent time on Pinterest with Lily looking at hair colors and styles, trying to decide what to do with my uber straight, uber fine, uber boring hair. I knew that I wanted a little change but nothing too drastic. We pinned a few images to show the stylist and off I went, with my heart full of hope.
The stylist and I talked for a while. She looked at my pins. I explained my pesky cowlick in the center of my forehead. She fingered my hair and gave opinions. I discussed options with her. Then she went to mix the color.
I sent this pic home to Lily. See? I was still smiling.
I told the stylist that I wanted to go darker. I told the stylist I didn't want bangs.
But as the appointment progressed, I realized that my requests fell on deaf ears. After cutting the back, she pulled out the hair dryer, and blond streaks appeared. What part of "darker" involves blond highlights? My flight or fight radar bleeped, but then it receded again. Maybe this would still work out. Things would be ok.
Then things really weren't ok.
She had convinced me that a few layers framing the face would be good, and I was ok with that. She sectioned off the front of my hair and cut it to just below my chin. It's all good. I can handle this. The next cut caused me to sharply inhale and stiffen.
She cut bangs. Not just bangs, but a heavy fringe of bangs. Right across my forehead.
I was speechless.
"Are you ok?" she asked.
How do you answer that question when you're at the mercy of someone with scissors and you most definitely are NOT ok?
"Yeah. I'm fine."
The appointment couldn't end fast enough, and I was so gobsmacked that I couldn't process what had just happened. When Lily heard me enter the house, she rounded the corner and excitedly asked to see. She saw my hair, and knowing what we'd pinned earlier that morning, she immediately knew. She froze, silently assessing my new look. She held out her arms to hug me and said, "Come here, Mom. Did you pay for that?"
Yes, dear. I did.
Brad didn't recognize me from a distance. I sat on the bench at church with my family, and my friends wondered who was sitting with my family. Eve's friend got in the car and she whispered to Eve, "Why does your mom look so weird?" Eve's reply was, "It's because she has bangs. And they aren't going away." It's that different.
It's been almost two weeks now, and I'm ready to face the truth.
I have bangs. For the first time since high school (and the first time since we've been married), I have bangs.
At first, I really hated them. Hated them so much that I hid them under a ball cap or headband for the first few days. But they're beginning to grow on me. I still hate the highlights, and the dark color has already faded, but the bangs? The bangs may be around for a while, much to my surprise.
And I may actually be a teeny bit grateful to a stylist who went completely against my wishes.
Plus, it's just hair. It will grow back.
The day when you look at yourself in the mirror and say, "I have to get my hair done . . . NOW!!!!"
I had that day two weeks ago. After scheduling the appointment with a stylist I've never seen before, I spent time on Pinterest with Lily looking at hair colors and styles, trying to decide what to do with my uber straight, uber fine, uber boring hair. I knew that I wanted a little change but nothing too drastic. We pinned a few images to show the stylist and off I went, with my heart full of hope.
The stylist and I talked for a while. She looked at my pins. I explained my pesky cowlick in the center of my forehead. She fingered my hair and gave opinions. I discussed options with her. Then she went to mix the color.
I sent this pic home to Lily. See? I was still smiling.
But as the appointment progressed, I realized that my requests fell on deaf ears. After cutting the back, she pulled out the hair dryer, and blond streaks appeared. What part of "darker" involves blond highlights? My flight or fight radar bleeped, but then it receded again. Maybe this would still work out. Things would be ok.
Then things really weren't ok.
She had convinced me that a few layers framing the face would be good, and I was ok with that. She sectioned off the front of my hair and cut it to just below my chin. It's all good. I can handle this. The next cut caused me to sharply inhale and stiffen.
She cut bangs. Not just bangs, but a heavy fringe of bangs. Right across my forehead.
I was speechless.
"Are you ok?" she asked.
How do you answer that question when you're at the mercy of someone with scissors and you most definitely are NOT ok?
"Yeah. I'm fine."
The appointment couldn't end fast enough, and I was so gobsmacked that I couldn't process what had just happened. When Lily heard me enter the house, she rounded the corner and excitedly asked to see. She saw my hair, and knowing what we'd pinned earlier that morning, she immediately knew. She froze, silently assessing my new look. She held out her arms to hug me and said, "Come here, Mom. Did you pay for that?"
Yes, dear. I did.
Brad didn't recognize me from a distance. I sat on the bench at church with my family, and my friends wondered who was sitting with my family. Eve's friend got in the car and she whispered to Eve, "Why does your mom look so weird?" Eve's reply was, "It's because she has bangs. And they aren't going away." It's that different.
It's been almost two weeks now, and I'm ready to face the truth.
And I may actually be a teeny bit grateful to a stylist who went completely against my wishes.
Plus, it's just hair. It will grow back.
Yes, it IS a totally new look for you. I think I like it!
ReplyDeleteI actually like the bangs. They are flattering!
ReplyDeletePS. And I think your hair would be even cuter chin-length!
ReplyDeleteMy hair lady is awesome!! Her name is Amanda and her salon is at Val vista and southern. Her number is (480) 440-3907 or the link to make appointments is https://www.styleseat.com/m/book/?utm_campaign=rate-appt-ecr&email_variant=2&utm_medium=emkt&utm_source=pro_mkt&utm_content=rebook-4_639815_41785898&redirect_referrer=%24direct#/p/amandaturley2
ReplyDeleteI feel sick about your experience. If you want you can contact me and I'll take you darker ( for real) and help you make a grow out plan for a cut you most certainly did not want and your first appointment with me will be on me. Hopefully it can help makeup for paying for something you didn't want. 480-440-3907
ReplyDeleteThis is my lady Amanda! Call her. She is awesome!
DeleteI had an absolutely devastating haircut two weeks ago as well. I still am not happy with it, but I've always had the philosophy that it's just hair...and it will grow. And it will. I still don't love my hair, BUT I've come to realize even when we communicate as effectively as we possibly can, there is still sometimes a (major) disconnect or misunderstanding. That lesson goes FAR beyond that of haircuts, etc...
ReplyDeleteGood for you - it's just hair and it WILL grow back. It helps if you can think of it as a bit of a 'try on' of a new identity!
ReplyDeleteI think they look good :)
ReplyDeleteI have this same experience exactly. Also agree that it's just hair. Whew.
ReplyDeleteI think this haircut and highlights gives a youthful look to you.