February 8, 2010

My own personal hell....

I don’t know about you but every time I go to the hairdressers I come out looking exactly the same. I find the experience totally intimidating. The hairdresser is without a shadow of a doubt always going to be some young, trendy, perky teenager who smiles and nods the whole time while you describe what you want done and then just goes on to do whatever the hell she wants anyway! It drives me mental. I mean, why even bother taking in a photo of a supermodel that you could clearly look just like if only the hairdresser listened to what you said?

I am so adverse to the hairdressers that until recently I hadn’t had my haircut for a whole year. I know, it’s disgusting. The last time I had a haircut the camp man with a handle bar moustache made me look at historical pictures of the surrounding area for the duration of my haircut (which FYI was far too long) and these totally uninteresting photos were interspersed with cruel comments about how bad a person I was for not having my haircut for a year. I paid him to bore me and to bully me. That was NOT money well spent. I think that he even pulled my hair! Needless to say I didn’t go back and I avoid walking past the hairdressers at all costs just in case he should pop outside, seize me by my split ends and force me inside his Salon of Satan. I now feel like I have to apologise to hairdressers as soon as I arrive so that they wont judge me on my dry, matted ponytail.

He clearly instilled this fear in me but I’ve had bad experiences before which haven’t helped. I’m not a fan of the pointless conversation. They clearly don’t care where I’m going on holiday this year and I don’t really care how long they have been hairdressing but yet every time I go I find myself asking these questions just to avoid any kind of awkward silence. Just give me a trashy gossip magazine and a cup of coffee and shut the hell up!

The one thing that I hate the most is having to sit and look at myself in a mirror for an hour. The lighting is never forgiving unless you pile on loads of makeup and I’m always watching nervously as the hairdresser inevitably cuts of far too much when you only asked for a couple of inches! It’s like watching a car crash in slow motion.

I tend to go for a wet cut because 1. Its cheaper and 2. Your hair doesn’t get blow dryed so that you look like Marge Simpson’s less fashionable sister. And this means that I can get out of there as soon as possible. I don’t like to hang around.

So I went last week to finally get my haircut and decided that seeing as it was going to cost me so much I might as well get as much cut off as possible. Needless to say, it made me feel a little nauseous and definitely light headed when I saw how much she had cut off but at the end of the day my reasoning was this. The more I have cut off, the longer I can go without having to go back to have it cut again. I’d say another year should do it.


  1. Yeah, I feel your pain. I have to deal with ALL that - AND I get to do it all in Polish. Try explaining what you want in a foreign language! Ha! It never works out... never ever.

  2. wow - that just made me break out in a sweat. You poor thing!

  3. Ah You got that right! Whats up with hairdressers these days. I hate it when you try to explain to the so-called hair stylist and he looks at you, like he does not get what you want! It happened to me, just a while back, when I asked this dude who was apparently the hairdresser and owner of the salon about getting my hair highlighted. I said I wanted the streaks. He was like HUH. Urgh, Maybe I gotta converse in Chinese, because he was chinese. He HE.

    By the way, exciting post, Amy. Always a delight.