When I was a baby, my hair stood straight up, kind of like when you touch those static electricity balls at science museums.
When I was a toddler, I had a bowl cut – the better to accentuate my chubby baby cheeks.
When I was about 7 years old, I had a perm. I looked like an old Chinese lady with a tight football helmet head full of curls.
When I was in 5th grade, I grew a tail. You see, I have this natural blonde streak on the left side of my head, right above my ear. I thought it would be cool to grow out that strand of hair.
For my wedding, my then-stylist wouldn’t let me cut my hair too short because I had to have long(ish) hair for my wedding. Duh. After my wedding, I cut it all off to a chin-length bob that was shorter in the back. I kept my hair like that for a very long time.
I’ve spent the last two to three years growing out my hair. I finally decided it was time for something new. I liked the idea of having longer hair again and I liked the idea of being able to pull it back into a ponytail.
At Blend, my friend Lisa cut my hair for me. I love that she did and love having a friend cut my hair for me, especially when it’s clearly such a passion of hers. Lisa cut about an inch or so off and it felt freeing to lose some of the length and weight. I have super thick, stick-straight Asian hair and it gets heavy as it gets long.
When I returned home last week, I completely forgot that I had scheduled a hair appointment for Friday. I didn’t need it since Lisa just cut my hair but since I forgot to cancel the appointment, I would have to pay regardless of whether or not I actually showed up for the appointment. So I showed up.
My regular stylist was out so I was scheduled with another stylist who I have not worked with before. I figured it was no big deal because I haven’t had any problems with others at the salon and I’m pretty low-key about my hair. It’s hair after all, right?
Well, let’s just say that this woman chopped my hair. No, hacked might be a better way to describe it. I walked out of the salon a little stunned but it wasn’t until I got home that I realized how bad it was. I got upset and started crying. I have never cried about a haircut before.
I felt stupid for messing with the nice cut that my friend had given me. I felt stupid for not realizing that my hair was turning into a disaster as I sat in the chair.
I called the salon and complained. I wanted it fixed and agreed to come in and see if we could find a solution together. But as I sat in the chair for the second time that day and tried to explain why I was unhappy, the woman who cut my hair wasn’t even listening. Instead, she chose to defend herself and educate me on hair cutting technique and terms. She wasn’t trying to find a solution with me.
I walked out. I was so angry.
On Saturday, I went to another salon – one that my cousin recommended – and I asked Mark to fix my hair. He examined my hair and had to hide a slight look of horror. My hair was cut in multiple lengths all around my head. He told me that he would have to cut it pretty short in order to get a decent line. I nodded and closed my eyes.
All this to say, I got a haircut on Saturday – a chin-length bob that is slight shorter in the back. Perfect for summer, yes?
Have you ever had a bad haircut?
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