May 2006

I’ve been long overdue for a haircut.  I was growing out the short layered style I had for a couple years, and it has been so nice to be able to wear a ponytail again.  Being at home with three kids, days go by that I don’t fix my hair, just stick it in a pony and go. It’s great!

But when I style it and wear it down, it is getting quite unflattering.  It is just kind of long and bland and really drags me down.  So I’ve been planning to get some face-framing layers and maybe a bang while growing it a few inches longer.

So I made an appointment with my faithful hairstylist of four years, and this morning I left Husband with the kids and took off to my appointment.  I sat in the waiting room for about 10 minutes, poring over hairstyle magazines, trying to find a picture of the style I want.

Have you brunettes out there noticed that it’s never the same when a brunette tries to copy a blond hairstyle?  You really have to find a picture of a brunette wearing the style you want to be assured it is going to look the way you want it.  But most of the hairstyles in these magazines are either blond or have a lot of highlighting.  There were very few pictures of brunettes throughout the whole magazine. 

Finally I came up with a couple different pictures.  One showed the face-framing layers I had in mind, and another picture showed the bang I wanted, and then I found a picture of the hairstyle I’d like to have after it grows out a few more inches in length, still incorporating the bang and the shorter layers around the face.  I was clear that my goal was to let it grow out some.  Well, I thought I was clear.  But evidently not.  Because…

SNIP! 

I was chatting away, and the next thing I knew, I could feel the scissor against the back of my neck.   ACK!  I didn’t say anything at first.  I realized right away that there had been a misunderstanding, but what can you do after the first snip?  I didn’t want to make her feel bad.  A couple more snips, and I could see that the hair on the floor was two inches long.  Feeling faint, I heard myself say, "Oh, wow. That’s short!"

My trusty hairstylist replied: "You said ’shoulder length’ right?"

Now, stop right here.  What is it with "shoulder length"?  The first time I got my short cut, I was not intending to go short.  I wanted to go "shoulder length with some layers".  To me, shoulder length means touching the shoulders, sitting on the shoulders in fact.  You know, it has some swing to it, right?   

Somehow, "shoulder length" to a hairdresser seems to mean up off the shoulders.  Add some layering to that, and you have short hair!  Fortunately the first time this happened, I didn’t mind.  I discovered I liked the shorter style and kept it that way for over a year.  But I got sick of styling it every day and not being able to throw it into a ponytail, plus I was afraid it was aging me so I started letting it grow, which is how I ended up here today.

So back to the hair salon.  It was an awkward moment.  I could tell my stylist felt bad, and I wished I had gone along with it.  I stuttered, "Oh, well, I thought we were going for the longer cut in that picture."

By now she had tears in her eyes.  She tried to explain that she thought I wanted to cut it back and then let it grow.  (Not sure HOW I communicated this.  If I said "shoulder length" at any time, I was referring to the existing length of my hair, but as I explained, this evidently is not a clearly defined term.)  I could tell she felt bad, and of course it was too late to change it.  So I quickly jumped in, "It’s okay. Really.  I liked it short before.  I don’t really care.  It will be cute."

Hair grows, right?

We went on chatting as she finished up the haircut.  I assured her that it was a great cut and that I loved it. 

As I was checking out, she came by on her way to the break room.  She leaned over and whispered, "That cut looks very sexy on you!"  Snort.  Sell it, girlfriend! Is this what they teach them in beauty school?  When you butcher someone’s hair, try to convince them it looks great anyway!  Nice try.

Only time will tell, but I’m not particularly fond of my new "do" so far.  Oh, well. It will grow.

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So D and I were at Lowe’s this morning, and we walked by the riding mowers.  D piped up: "This is what Daddy wants.  When we were here, he got to try one."

Me: "Oh, he did, did he?"

D: "Yeah.  That’s what I want to get him for Father’s Day.  When is Father’s Day?"

Before I had a chance to explain that I don’t exactly have funds of my own for purchasing expensive gifts, he added:  "A lawn mower or a Phillies hat. That’s what Dad wants for Father’s Day."

Well, that’s a relief.  I can certainly spring for a Phillies hat!

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