Dear Reader,
We’ve all been there. The really bad hair cut. The truly awful dye job. That 2A.M. terror when you think you can trim your own bangs. Yes. We’ve been there.
I’ve been in a constant state of turmoil over finding a hairdresser for the last, oh, year or two. I had one I really loved. She wasn’t horribly priced, and I liked getting to go chat with her and having a scalp massage pre-cut. And then–she quit cutting hair. I got caught in a weird squabble between two other stylists who wanted me to come to one or the other, but neither were my first girl. So–I left. I’ve tried a few other salons, but really, they’re either astronomically priced or just not good.
For me, it’s all about the bangs. If you can trim my bangs and give me my pin-up look, I’m happy!
Lately I’ve been going to a cosmetology school in the hopes I’d find someone with skill or at least a personality I clicked with. So far it’s been pretty hit or miss. The students seem to be more than able to cut long layers, but my bangs have given some students outright panic attacks. I’m pretty sure that to date, an instructor has always cut my bangs.
This last weekend was my pre-convention salon trip. Pretty sure this was the most nerve wracking salon experience I’ve ever had.
Let me start at the beginning.
I had a 9AM slot, scheduled for an hour, which should allow for the consultation, a shampoo, cut and blow dry–no styling.
My stylist seemed to have been a sophomore in the program, whatever their equivalent is. Honestly, I’m not all that concerned because my hair is long, I want a minimal trim, and the instructors are always nearby to help. Probably should have had a little more concern, though.
I informed my stylist what I wanted: long layers, short bangs.
She washes my hair, brushes it out. We discuss how much a trim means to her and me, decide we’re on the same page and I settle in for what is usually an hour of telling the student stylists about my books and handing out cards and reading lists for whatever they’re interested in. Before that happened though, the instructor comes by and my stylist begins to ask her–How do you cut long layers?
O___O
Oh-My-Lanta. Really?
I swear the instructor supervised every snip of hair. There was not a single cut she didn’t approve pre trim, so I’m confident that it’s a good job. The instructor also went over my hair after the student, but talk about a are-you-serious moment! I would assume layers are a fairly basic thing people learn, but there are clearly many schools of thought for how to cut long layers. I should now know. I got an hour-plus lesson on different techniques.
Two and a half hours later, I left the salon. I like my cut. My hair looks good, even better after I did a home dye job. But holy mother of cheese whiz! At least it only cost me like, $10.
