And you can hear the whimper that has emanated out of me for the last 48 hours. 48 long hours since I realized that the haircut I got on Saturday was totally fucked. Yes, fucked.I don't know what happened. I said "take some weight out so it dries fast and waves easily." She heard "make it look like I got drunk one night and passed out too close to a fan, I love that 'just cut gum out of my hair' look."
I'm so screwed. My easy-breezy Europe hair has now been massacred and I have no idea why. What is it with stylists being totally unreliable? It feels a little unacceptable. She was my normal girl! I say "was" also because after this (if it's salvageable) I don't think I'll be visiting again, which puts me at square one for a stylist.
Also, I called the salon and asked to see a senior person today when they try to repair the damage. Right now, the general consensus is that I'll have to do something drastic in order to fix this hot mess. And, I do mean 'general consensus,' because everyone from my old co-workers to my 7-year-old nephew have cringed upon viewing.
Awesome.
3 comments:
I can't thank you enough for coming in yesterday and showing me your hair. Made my day feel not nearly as horrible.
Welcome to the short hair club (you know, after they have to cut it all off to fix it).
SHOW US! we won't laugh. and if we can't help ourselves and a giggle escapes, we'll totally buy you a beer.
It was so bad I'm tempted to post pictures as a visual cautionary tale, but alas, some hair-genius managed to save it today, so no pics. I just might have to name my firstborn 'Stevie' now...
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