Last weekend, I caught a glimpse of my hair in the sun. Dry split ends and dull texture – months of hair left to grow and self-destruct. When was my last hair appointment? This week I finally walked my embarrassed self to a fancy salon and embraced the pain. This is why I hate getting my haircut.
An awkward experience
My regular hairdresser made hair-cutting a breeze. Every six weeks I religiously visited her and discussed work as she trimmed my locks – letting me read magazines whilst blow-drying. After deciding to experiment with colouring, I opted for a colour technician to help, leaving my regular to continue cutting. All was well.
Until she left the salon and moved away. Since then, I’ve not been faithful. I’ve switched salons and stylists continually and feel hopeless figuring my ideal commitment. My hair enjoys mirroring my love life. As appointments typically get booked last-minute, it’s often a case of who’s available. Much to the dismay of stylists recognising me. That awkward moment when you walk in and catch each other’s eyes – the audacity to cheat where they work.
I decided to try somewhere new – a clean slate. The first awkward moment occurred at the reception desk. I booked online and forgot my surname – I put my middle name Jane. Then, I had to explain my error selecting just a blow-dry when I needed a haircut. My stylist looked horrified at the thought of styling the ratty tails sticking their tongue out at her – soon crying when she agreed to chop them off.
The consultation – judgement
One of the biggest reasons I hate getting my haircut. Sitting on the chair looking at myself after waking up from death – that’s what salon lighting reflects – I’m forced to confess my hair sins. Yes, I let months go by without visiting a salon – I use to go regularly! No, I ran out of my hair mask and I’m not using one at the minute. Also, no, I’ve stopped buying Kerastase and I’m shampooing with some brand I found in T.K Maxx – I don’t know the name but it wasn’t cheap.
Still, my stylist stares at me in disgust. Moments of judgement grimacing her face quickens to delight at realising I’m the perfect candidate for selling. In a hurry she rushes and grabs a mixture of products my “really dry” hair needs. I’ve tried each one, though I know she wouldn’t believe me. “The girl with skanky hair has supposedly bought every luxury treatment we offer”, she’d think. When stylists begin consulting me, I’m reminded of my mother’s face at parents’ evenings when my teachers inform her, I’ve never attended revision classes.
I want to scream “I know – I know my hair looks bad and hence the reason I’m here. If my hair looked radiant, I wouldn’t come in and pay a fortune for a trim.” Once the telling off/please buy stage ends, it’s on to the next ‘hate getting my haircut phase’ – the wash. I judge myself for not knowing where to look and if it’s polite to talk. Sitting on the chairs, it’s like being on a train trying to avoid the eyes of other customers. I end up with my eyes admiring the floor, wondering if I appear sad.
Hate getting my haircut – where do you look?
There’re mirrors everywhere! Back to the salon hair cutting area, I see myself in bad light with wet tresses glued back. I’m enticed to analyse myself – where has my concealer gone; why do my eye circles resemble a racoon’s? Can’t fixate however – mustn’t come across vain. Me and my stylist discussed social media and fast-fashion as she multi-tasked scissors and conversation.
When three-quarters of hair felt dry from blow-drying, my stylist brought forward my improved newly cut hair. I did my best to show enthusiasm, repeating my favourite line “wow, you can see such a difference”. As the heat turned off, I silently sighed at the process reaching an end. Jacket back on and purse in hand, I’m asked whether to rebook. I know my stylist listened to my response, making it worse when I said no.
I prefer last-minute appointments, not that I wouldn’t book her again. Finally, I left and rushed home to re-style – why do hairdressers love drying hair flat? Requesting a simple cut means it’s rare to face disappointment. As a child, I’d leave Toni & Guy pretending to love my style, waiting at least 30 minutes before telling my dad how awful it was. He’d say “let’s go back” and I’d be too ashamed, begging him to not worry.
Accepting a dreadful haircut
Why do we struggle to admit we don’t like a haircut? Only once did I complain when a hairdresser made my side fringe portray sharp spikes – picture a 4-year-old cutting. Me and Alexandra who runs the amazing blog Vividual shared our experiences. She remembers a hairdresser washing her hair and spilling so much water over her, the floor needed cleaning afterwards. Funnily enough, the newspaper Metro published a list of hair salon struggles, mentioning not trusting hairdressers after they spill water during a hair wash.
I hate getting my haircut – do you feel the same? I’d love to read your stories.