Hair raising experience – Part II

You got it Wash Lady and Gina – my hair raising experience was a visit to a new hairdresser. Not only for a cut but highlights too. Yikes! Scary indeed. Why is it so hard to find a good hairdresser and not someone who gives the same cut to everyone no matter what your hair is like or what you ask for?

After years of trial and error, I finally found a girl who would listen to what I said and tried to give me the cut I wanted. She didn't always succeed, and a few times I had one side shorter than the other, or a cut that didn't work with the natural waves, cow licks, or free spirit my hair had, but after years of training, she finally knew my hair and what it would and wouldn't do. She would meditate the night before I came in for a cut and eat her Wheaties that morning, just so she would be in fine form and at her creative best for the task ahead. (Get it? A head?!!) As my hair started to turn grey, I was always game for something new and wanted to change colour or styles with the seasons, and she was always willing to try to give me what I thought I wanted.

My first encounter with haircolouring was not a happy one. After years of not colouring my hair at all, I decided to take matters into my own hands one day, and add some highlights to it. I ended up with orange hair. Not only orange, but a patchwork quilt of different shades of orange. What a mess! It was a, hot as blazes, summer and I had to wear a hat each time I went out because my head looked like it was on fire when I went out into the sunlight, and people kept trying to throw buckets of water on me. I slinked off to my hairdresser and asked her to help me "fix it". I put the temporary insanity of trying to colour my own hair, down to menopausal madness due to raging hormones at the time, and vowed never to try to colour my own hair again. My dear sweet hairdresser took me into the back room and worked her magic on my head. She put the fire out and gave me a gentle glow of blonde instead of the flaming orange. I loved the new look and so did AC.

My old hairdresser was a gem. She understood exactly what I meant when I said I want it short but long, close to my head but full, off my face, but with bangs that touch my eyebrows…..

So, it was with great fear and trepidation that I moved far far away from her and faced the task of finding someone else who spoke the same language. It was easier to find a new doctor!!!!

Butterfly heard from a friend that there was an excellent guy in town and people travelled all the way out here from Ottawa just to have him cut their hair, so I gave him a call and set up an appointment to put my head in his hands. Then I tried to calm myself with the mantra- " it will always grow again, it will always grow again, it will always grow again" and kept repeating it to myself as the dreaded appointment date drew closer.

Yesterday I sat in the chair and tried to tell him about the natural waves in my hair and what kind of a cut I wanted. He didn't seem to be paying any attention to what I was saying. He looked at my hair and said he wanted my hair to find its own freedom and tell him what it wanted to do instead of him trying to make it doing something else. I didn't know if I liked what I was hearing or not. What was I letting myself in for! Oh dear, should I get up and run for it while I still had the chance? (It will grow again, it will grow again, it will grow again.) I stayed put.

He then got out his colour book and showed me the colours he would chose for my skin tones and pointed out three shades that he liked– a highlight, a low light and something else – I forget what he called it. I think I was going into panic mode at this point. They were completely different colours than what I had, (warm tones instead of cool) and he went on to explain that he had to cover the old colour before he could do something new. As he chatted on about colour and hair follicles I repeated my mantra to myself and decided to throw caution to the wind and blurted out – "Sure why not" and let him go to it. (It will grow again, it will grow again, it will grow again.)

I must say that I have never had anyone spend so much time cutting my hair. He seemed to be cutting one wispy strand at a time. I had to sit perfectly straight, I was not allowed to cross my legs and I had to be very still and tilt my head, just so, when instructed to do so. An artist was at work!!!!!

To make this long story a bit shorter let me just say that I love the new colour and I think I will like the new cut. I wasn't sure at first though. When he styled it and fussed with it after the cut I felt like I had a palm tree on my head when he was done. It was high and wide and my head felt very big. Yes, it was a tad more bouffant than I was used to. So much so, I thought I might have trouble getting into the car to drive home.

I walked in the door and AC's face registered his shock at the new do too and he said "It is big isn't it?"
"I feel like I have a palm tree on my head" I replied, and I started to tug at it to try to tame it down a bit. AC followed me upstairs and said that I should leave it alone and maybe we would get used to it after awhile. As the day wore on and it flattened out a bit we both thought that we rather liked the cut and it might be ok. It was the rather flamboyant styling job that was a bit over the edge for us.

After all this talk about the cut and colour I thought maybe I should post a picture of it. So, after sleeping on it and having it mashed into the pillow for a few hours it looks like this.



Not bad huh? All I did when I got up was brush it back and it fell into place. Whew! The morning after the cut always tells the tale doesn't it? Yes, I think I am going to like this cut a lot. Who knew I should have been listening to my hair instead of trying to tell it what to do all these years? You learn something new every day don't you?