I have very very large curly hair (that's all mine....except for the eyebrows and under the lip). I consider it my super power and sometimes my security blanket.
After moving to Toronto and getting discouraged with my job search , and the 3 new stitches on my chin thanks to my new bike and its tango with the trolley tracks, I decided to treat myself to a hair cut. I am a cook, who loves butchery and can testify in court that the woman who "cut" my hair must also share the same passion. She did a real hack job. My hair was neither long nor short. If I had been a male in the mid eighties, I would have done well with the ladies as my new mullet screamed business in the front, party in the back!!!! Well, I sported my new do, with about 100 bobby pins to manipulate it into a style I could stomach (after making my boyfriend tell me it looked good) for about month and a half. When it had grown in tiny bit I went to the salon that I should have gone to in the first place. I chatted with the hairdresser for a while before he started cutting. I was sure that I would have to cut it all off. ( I had made this appointment twice already before calling last minute to cancel... short hair didn't work for me when I was a teenager and my sister's boyfriend and his Friends were convinced I was a lesbian.... and it sure as hell will take a lot of convincing now with me often working as the lone straight female in a male dominated kitchen!SO, when he told me that my hair looked good long and that he didn't want to get rid of too much of the length, I was thrilled. !! "to the shampoo chair" !! He cut, and I amused him with stories of my previous hair CUT. I described of how the woman had worn a plastic bag type thing over her head, apparently she was giving herself a treatment. I told him how her hands trembled with...what? Caffeine overload? perhaps due to the two Starbucks venti coffee cups at her station perhaps???I detailed how she had used about 4 different types of scissors and 10 different techniques. Each one suggesting the thought bubble above her head to be saying, "Yeah, its this one for curly hair, but then again, it could be this one... yeah, its this one" After the the last lock had fallen he explained the cut and offered me a free fringe trim if I felt it wasn't still perfect in a few weeks time. What a guy eh! I gladly accepted a few of his cards, praised and tipped him and journey off into the afternoon sun to turn a few heads with my new 'do.
After moving to Toronto and getting discouraged with my job search , and the 3 new stitches on my chin thanks to my new bike and its tango with the trolley tracks, I decided to treat myself to a hair cut. I am a cook, who loves butchery and can testify in court that the woman who "cut" my hair must also share the same passion. She did a real hack job. My hair was neither long nor short. If I had been a male in the mid eighties, I would have done well with the ladies as my new mullet screamed business in the front, party in the back!!!! Well, I sported my new do, with about 100 bobby pins to manipulate it into a style I could stomach (after making my boyfriend tell me it looked good) for about month and a half. When it had grown in tiny bit I went to the salon that I should have gone to in the first place. I chatted with the hairdresser for a while before he started cutting. I was sure that I would have to cut it all off. ( I had made this appointment twice already before calling last minute to cancel... short hair didn't work for me when I was a teenager and my sister's boyfriend and his Friends were convinced I was a lesbian.... and it sure as hell will take a lot of convincing now with me often working as the lone straight female in a male dominated kitchen!SO, when he told me that my hair looked good long and that he didn't want to get rid of too much of the length, I was thrilled. !! "to the shampoo chair" !! He cut, and I amused him with stories of my previous hair CUT. I described of how the woman had worn a plastic bag type thing over her head, apparently she was giving herself a treatment. I told him how her hands trembled with...what? Caffeine overload? perhaps due to the two Starbucks venti coffee cups at her station perhaps???I detailed how she had used about 4 different types of scissors and 10 different techniques. Each one suggesting the thought bubble above her head to be saying, "Yeah, its this one for curly hair, but then again, it could be this one... yeah, its this one" After the the last lock had fallen he explained the cut and offered me a free fringe trim if I felt it wasn't still perfect in a few weeks time. What a guy eh! I gladly accepted a few of his cards, praised and tipped him and journey off into the afternoon sun to turn a few heads with my new 'do.
4 comments:
Wicked. Do you have photos pre and post both or either haircuts?
I'm with Zach -- photos please, especially since we haven't seen you for months. Adam's cute but . . .
Are you willing to tell us who your saviour is? I need help and I'm in TO.
I love the photos -- like that idea of the difference between Monday and Friday. You're very good at the self-portraits.
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