Haircut from hell. Sort of.
21 May
“Just a quick trim,” I said to the hairdresser, as I nervously eased myself into the torture chair this morning, Well, we all know the kind of luck I normally have with haircuts, and that’s no luck at all, basically. But today was to be different.
“No problem,” said the hairdresser, smiling reassuringly as she wrapped me in one of those massive cape things. “We’ll just tidy it up a bit, shall we?” (Sidenote: why do hairdressers always speak to you in the plural? ‘And what are we having done today, then?’ is their usual opening gambit, which I guess is supposed to make you feel like the two of you are on a jolly escapade together, as opposed to what’s actually happening, which is more like a trip to the dentist.)
Anyway, this hairdresser seemed to have no problem understanding just what it was I was after, so I relaxed back into the chair (well, I relaxed as much as it was possible to relax with a sink sticking into my neck, which wasn’t very relaxing at all, come to think of it), and basked in the joy of having finally found a hairdresser who, like, really understood me. Then I decided to get a bit daring. This was my fatal mistake.
“Also,” I said. “This fringe of mine. I’m trying to grow it out, but you couldn’t just, I don’t know, make it blend in a bit more with the rest of my hair, could you?”
Well, that’s what I thought I said, anyway. What the hairdresser obviously heard was, “It’s always been my dream to look like Farrah Fawcett, only with less hair, and a mullet. Make that dream a reality, hairdresser!”
That was how it came to pass that ten minutes later I found myself staring into the mirror aghast as the hairdresser chopped huge chunks off hair off the front of my head, apparently at random.
Now, you’d think I would have said something at this point, wouldn’t you? Well, you would be wrong. Here’s why:
1. It was instantly apparent to me that I was in the hands of a madwoman. A MADWOMAN, I tells ya. And she had scissors.
2. Once those first few chunks of hair have gone from the area around your face, ain’t no goin’ back. It’s not like she can just stick them back on for you, is it? So if she’s just chopped four or five inches off one side of your head, there really isn’t a possible scenario which doesn’t result in the other side of your head getting the same treatment.
(Aside: actually, there is. When I was at university, there was a girl in my year who had one side of her head cut into a bob, and the other side cropped, so she looked like a different person depending on which side you were standing on. True story. It haunts me to this day.)
3. I am a complete and utter wuss. And also: stupid.
So, rather than challenge the hairdresser, what I did was, I just sat there grinning inanely, then I drove home, played around with it a bit in front of the mirror, realised that from some angles it looked a lot like a MULLET, then threw myself onto the bed, screaming like a small child.
Then I looked at it again, and realised that, actually, it looks more or less EXACTLY THE SAME as it always has:
Well, sort of. From the front, it looks the same as always, but that’s only because I have cleverly pulled the hair from the back of my head onto my shoulders in this picture. If I pull that hair back, the front is all kind of shaggy. And choppy. And from the side, I’m definitely seeing a mullet. Terry’s comment:
“Well, there’s certainly a…. length difference… between the front and the back.”
This didn’t reassure me. Nor did Terry’s later attempts at reassurance, which included the line, “Does your hair actually GROW? Because, really, it NEVER looks any different to me.”
I think he may be right. I hope so. If not, looks like I’m spending the next few weeks with a MULLET on my head.
Sweetie! You look beautiful. You always look beautiful. Even if it were (and it ain’t I promise) a mullet, you would still be able to pull off that fish head fashion with style and grace. However, your story telling is second to none so carry on with the angst because, until you complete your novel, I have to get my kicks with your entaining writing where I can. Wish you still sometimes LJed though – RSS feed works but it isn’t quite as “friendly and cosy”.
You’re looking more and more like the cartoon icon!
lol I kid, but I think you look beautiful. I am sure that it looks great from all angles!
I really like your makeup too, oooh la la!
I’m really digging the right side of your head/hair, whichever sounds less freaky. And by right, I mean your right, because as I’m looking at it, it’s your left. Whatever. I dig your bangs.
At least you didn’t ASK for a mullet. Seriously, SO MANY GIRLS in Brisbane have ACTUAL MULLETS. THAT THEY ASK FOR.
Why, God? WHY??????
Oh, the humanity!
(p.s. schmancy photo – you look great!!)
Thanks everyone
By last night I had become reconciled to it, but this morning was the first time I had to wash and dry it myself and it had me cursing it all over again. You can’t really tell from the picture, but the front has so many little short, choppy layers in it that all stick out at funny angles when I try to blow-dry it. Aaargh!
If the choppiness bothers you, there’s really nothing for it but to make ample use of that flatiron you blogged about ages ago. Seriously, proper flatironing can fix anything.
Although, I think it looks great.
I’ve had a mullet before (unintentionally, of course). This is no mullet. I love your hair!
I think you look beautiful no matter what haircut you have, so you don´t need to worry at all.
I swear, you have the WORST luck with hairdressers! I’d tell you to come see mine in the States, but that would be a PRICEY haircut, fo sho.
But you’re still cute as a button!
I googled haircut from hell having had one this morning and stumbled here.,the key word being trim. in my experience its the most misunderstood misinterpreted word in the english language. TRIM, hairdressing people, TRIM.You know its bad when your nearest and dearest say :it will grow”.Your blog post cheered me up heaps because it was written in a witty way.Incidentally, my best friend got exactly your haircut and she too was like jesus god im with mullet! long howls, many bobby pins and and a good bottle of plonk we commiserated over the evil hairdresser (who had been cutting perfectly for 4 months previously)!so even the good ones have a secret urge to mullet the population apparently.Good skills with the do, and better luck next time.
Haha, the other day I went to get a haircut at my normal life-long hairdresser and brought a picture of exactly what I wanted–it was fun, and different from everybody else’s hair, and I loved it. A lot. I had searched and searched for a hairstyle I liked. And I told her that was EXACTLY what I wanted. It went down to my collar bones and had side-swept bangs (not to be confused with the normal side bangs), and the bangs were parted a different way than the rest. She parted it to the side, chopped it all off to just above my shoulders, layered it to my cheeks, and gave me eye-length “face-framed” side bangs. Not side-swept bangs. I didn’t tell her that that was NOT WHAT I HAD WANTED because her two granddaughters (she’s not that old but she has them) were sitting RIGHT THERE, and they would hate me forever if I told their gramma that she screwed up my hair. I am now a clone.
I cried for hours that night. Luckily, the next day I found that if I curled it, I liked it. I am gradually growing to like the hairstyle, but it takes FOREVER in the mornings to style into a presentable state.