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Haunted by hair salon horrors

I think we’ve all shed a few tears over a particularly terrible haircut at some point in our lives. If you’ve never broken down in front of the mirror over your hair, well, I guess you’re just a little more emotionally stable than the rest of us.<br />

I think we’ve all shed a few tears over a particularly terrible haircut at some point in our lives. If you’ve never broken down in front of the mirror over your hair, well, I guess you’re just a little more emotionally stable than the rest of us.

I’m not proud of it, but I’ve hosted a number of pity parties for myself in the hours following a disastrous cut and blow. And, of course, the most horrendous hair mistakes always seem to happen days before an important and highly photographed event. So bad is my history with hair care that I’ve gotten to the point where I no longer trust any of these power-tripping, round-brush wielding stylists.

Every salon visit seems to go a little something like this:

Me: “Just a trim please, I still want to keep the length.”

Hairstylist: “Got it. You want it much shorter and with lots of layers.”

Me: “No, no layers, I hate layers. Just a trim please.”

Hairstylist: “All right, so I’ll be cutting off about five inches and giving you ‘The Rachel’ from Friends circa 1994.”

Clearly, none of us mere mortals stands a chance against these perfectly coiffed professionals with their confusing double-speak about feathering techniques and proper follicle maintenance.

And, so, I almost always leave the salon mourning the loss of my long locks and a hard-earned $50, even more when I am guilted into purchasing an armful of pretentious shampoos and serums that I really don’t need and certainly can’t afford. One time I even walked away with a bloody ear after a scissor-happy stylist got a little carried away.

I can’t think of any other people that I pay to make me this miserable, except maybe my dentist.

Just last week I found myself tearing up in front of the mirror while scrutinizing my latest chop; traumatized yet again by too-short-tresses and 1990s sitcom-star inspired layers. Yes, I know it’s just hair and it’ll grow back, but at the time it always seems so devastating.

I’ve had plenty of horrific hairdos (make that hair-don’ts) over the course of my 25 years. A perm, bangs, another perm ... but the most important thing I’ve learned is that you should never, ever get a haircut in a foreign country. Trust me when I tell you, North American women cannot pull off an edgy Euro-mullet.

 
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