Kind Thoughts
Kind Thoughts
It isn't like me to talk about things like this, but you are all my friends and I know I can rely on your support. I'm afraid I've had a setback in my life. I mentioned this in chat over the weekend, but I'm still feeling upset. Part of it may be due to residual PTSD from that unfortunate spider incident, but still . . .
Some of you may know that I've been trying to grow my hair since last winter. My hairdresser had developed a tendency to . . . butch . . . cut it, so to speak, and it just didn't fit in with my life, professional or social. Persons of the wrong sexual persuasion were trying to pick me up everywhere I went, including the grocery store. One of them, when I failed to pick up on the clues, bashed into me several times, in different aisles, with her shopping cart.
After the last "trim," which ended up with the sides and back shaved off an inch above my ears, I determined to let it grow.
I wanted to bounce around the house in a ponytail and exude sleek professionalism at work in a French twist. I WANTED HAIR.
My hairdresser wasn't thrilled. He thought it would look old-fashioned. Passe. [Someone put that little accent there, please.]
I thought that would be preferable to looking like a butch biker grrrrrl.
More than a year ago, I embarked on the growing process. I dealt with weirdly cut, draggly ends for months, glueing them in place with mounds of mousse. I became a conoisseur of hairsprays and gels. I measured it weekly, waiting for the day I could get even a bobby pin into it.
Month after month this went on. It wasn't even long enough to fit in a clamp, but I was pinning it back, glueing bobby pins in with gel and hooking a cute clamp on the pins. You could hardly tell there was no hair.
Finally, in the last couple of months, I had my ponytail. A short ponytail, but still a bona fide ponytail. And, I had a really solid French twist. Everyone loved it. I loved it. I was sooooo happy with my hair.
Every 3 months or so, I had the ends evened out a bit -- the sides, you know, had been sawtoothed from the previous shave-job. During one of those trims, my hairdresser cut too damned much off the top, and another time he thinned the ends -- so they would be "lighter" -- and made it harder to put up, so I've been watching out for that.
In the last few weeks, I've had people stopping me to tell me how spectacular I look with my hair in a French twist. "It's elegant!" "It really sets off your face!" "I love your hair now!"
I point that out so you can see how thrilled I have been with this hair.
Thursday I went in to have the ends evened. It was just above shoulder length in front and just below in back. I figured we could even it out considerably without messing up my ponytail or the French twist.
I made it very clear -- we were going to even the ends ONLY. I even showed him that the top and sides went all the way back into the ponytail. NO CUTTING ON THAT! And NO THINNING!
My hair is baby fine. I have no idea why hairdressers think they need to thin it out further.
My hairdresser's shop is set up so that you can't see in the mirror while he's cutting. Besides, I keep my eyes closed so the hair doesn't get in them.
Can you see what's coming? I didn't. It never crossed my mind.
Now, in case you can't see it, I'll mention that two weeks ago, I got tied up at work and missed an appointment with him. He didn't sound upset, but . . .
So, after he finished up, he chirps "OOOOOOO! Isn't it GORGEOUS? LOOOOOOOOOK! I lifted up those sides and the top to give it HEIGHT! And I THINNED IT ALL OVER so it would FLOOOOF! OOOOO! IT'S SO CUUUUUTE! And I left it looooong in back, just like you like it, so you can still have a ponytail!!!!"
He'd whacked off the top, whacked off the sides to my ears, and left the very back untouched from the crown to below my shoulders. And thinned it so much that you could see my head through it. Except in the very back--big blob of hair there.
I considered telling him to fix it, but feared I'd have no hair left at all.
I went to the mall. Stopped at one shop and asked if they could fix my hair. The young man at the desk looked at it and put his hand over his mouth. Said he felt terrible about it, but all his hairdressers had just left for the night. He found me another shop.
They said it was a mullet. Very popular in some circles. Asked why I'd gotten one if I didn't want one and asked what I'd had before. I explained. They got this look of horrified comprehension on their faces.
Sigh. They had to cut off nearly all of the back, some more of ONE side, and had to layer it up to the crown. They were really nice. Very encouraging. Showed me how quick it would blow-dry this way.
It's all gone. More than a year's worth of cultivating and coaxing. No more ponytail. No more French twist. No more pulling it up in a cute clip.
I've put my scrunchies away--it's too painful to look at them.
Some of you may know that I've been trying to grow my hair since last winter. My hairdresser had developed a tendency to . . . butch . . . cut it, so to speak, and it just didn't fit in with my life, professional or social. Persons of the wrong sexual persuasion were trying to pick me up everywhere I went, including the grocery store. One of them, when I failed to pick up on the clues, bashed into me several times, in different aisles, with her shopping cart.
After the last "trim," which ended up with the sides and back shaved off an inch above my ears, I determined to let it grow.
I wanted to bounce around the house in a ponytail and exude sleek professionalism at work in a French twist. I WANTED HAIR.
My hairdresser wasn't thrilled. He thought it would look old-fashioned. Passe. [Someone put that little accent there, please.]
I thought that would be preferable to looking like a butch biker grrrrrl.
More than a year ago, I embarked on the growing process. I dealt with weirdly cut, draggly ends for months, glueing them in place with mounds of mousse. I became a conoisseur of hairsprays and gels. I measured it weekly, waiting for the day I could get even a bobby pin into it.
Month after month this went on. It wasn't even long enough to fit in a clamp, but I was pinning it back, glueing bobby pins in with gel and hooking a cute clamp on the pins. You could hardly tell there was no hair.
Finally, in the last couple of months, I had my ponytail. A short ponytail, but still a bona fide ponytail. And, I had a really solid French twist. Everyone loved it. I loved it. I was sooooo happy with my hair.
Every 3 months or so, I had the ends evened out a bit -- the sides, you know, had been sawtoothed from the previous shave-job. During one of those trims, my hairdresser cut too damned much off the top, and another time he thinned the ends -- so they would be "lighter" -- and made it harder to put up, so I've been watching out for that.
In the last few weeks, I've had people stopping me to tell me how spectacular I look with my hair in a French twist. "It's elegant!" "It really sets off your face!" "I love your hair now!"
I point that out so you can see how thrilled I have been with this hair.
Thursday I went in to have the ends evened. It was just above shoulder length in front and just below in back. I figured we could even it out considerably without messing up my ponytail or the French twist.
I made it very clear -- we were going to even the ends ONLY. I even showed him that the top and sides went all the way back into the ponytail. NO CUTTING ON THAT! And NO THINNING!
My hair is baby fine. I have no idea why hairdressers think they need to thin it out further.
My hairdresser's shop is set up so that you can't see in the mirror while he's cutting. Besides, I keep my eyes closed so the hair doesn't get in them.
Can you see what's coming? I didn't. It never crossed my mind.
Now, in case you can't see it, I'll mention that two weeks ago, I got tied up at work and missed an appointment with him. He didn't sound upset, but . . .
So, after he finished up, he chirps "OOOOOOO! Isn't it GORGEOUS? LOOOOOOOOOK! I lifted up those sides and the top to give it HEIGHT! And I THINNED IT ALL OVER so it would FLOOOOF! OOOOO! IT'S SO CUUUUUTE! And I left it looooong in back, just like you like it, so you can still have a ponytail!!!!"
He'd whacked off the top, whacked off the sides to my ears, and left the very back untouched from the crown to below my shoulders. And thinned it so much that you could see my head through it. Except in the very back--big blob of hair there.
I considered telling him to fix it, but feared I'd have no hair left at all.
I went to the mall. Stopped at one shop and asked if they could fix my hair. The young man at the desk looked at it and put his hand over his mouth. Said he felt terrible about it, but all his hairdressers had just left for the night. He found me another shop.
They said it was a mullet. Very popular in some circles. Asked why I'd gotten one if I didn't want one and asked what I'd had before. I explained. They got this look of horrified comprehension on their faces.
Sigh. They had to cut off nearly all of the back, some more of ONE side, and had to layer it up to the crown. They were really nice. Very encouraging. Showed me how quick it would blow-dry this way.
It's all gone. More than a year's worth of cultivating and coaxing. No more ponytail. No more French twist. No more pulling it up in a cute clip.
I've put my scrunchies away--it's too painful to look at them.
Cotelette d'Agneau
- anniemcu
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Resist the urge to put sugar in the tank of his vespa.
No fields are immune to arrogant fools. Find a different haridresser (perhaps you already have, and NEVER go back to that (#&^%*$&!!
Get some good vitamins for hair growth and repeat the Serenity prayer over and over whenever you are near the mirror for a while.
It *will* grow back.
I'm so sorry you have had this done to you.
No fields are immune to arrogant fools. Find a different haridresser (perhaps you already have, and NEVER go back to that (#&^%*$&!!
Get some good vitamins for hair growth and repeat the Serenity prayer over and over whenever you are near the mirror for a while.
It *will* grow back.
I'm so sorry you have had this done to you.
anniemcu
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"You are what you do, not what you claim to believe." -Gene A. Statler
---
"Olé to you, none-the-less!" - Elizabeth Gilbert
---
http://www.sassafrassgrove.com
- MTGuru
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That's horrible Lambie. I've usually had longish hair, and have been hacked up by "stylists" more than once. Not as traumatically, but enough to sense what you must feel. It's like those French waiters who refuse to serve you X because they're the experts and you're a cretin. Sheesh.
Would you consider trying extensions, or even a wig? I know it seems phoney, but if it makes you look the way you know you really look and feel inside, at least while your fleece is growing back, it might help to lift your spirits, even if only for going out or special occasions. I've seen some modestly priced hair additions that look spectacularly good. You could even get those scrunchies out again.
P.S. J'suis amoureux d'Audrey Tautou !
Would you consider trying extensions, or even a wig? I know it seems phoney, but if it makes you look the way you know you really look and feel inside, at least while your fleece is growing back, it might help to lift your spirits, even if only for going out or special occasions. I've seen some modestly priced hair additions that look spectacularly good. You could even get those scrunchies out again.
P.S. J'suis amoureux d'Audrey Tautou !
Last edited by MTGuru on Mon Apr 16, 2007 1:43 am, edited 1 time in total.
- Innocent Bystander
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You have my sympathy, Lambie. I hope you won't go back to that hairdresser. (Why did you even go back to them the last time?)
Just to let you know you are not alone in this: at my daughter's school the fashion is for long tresses falling from the top of the forehead.
My wife has a hairdresser who does home visits. She decided to give my daughter a fringe - sorry , that's "bangs" in Amerakish. My daughter cried for three days. I mean, cried, solid, for three days. I think she stopped for five minutes at one point when she ate a bagel.
And you remind me of Billy Connolly's story that in the part of Glasgow where he was brought up, the barbershops used to have a sign "Haircuts Repaired".
Just to let you know you are not alone in this: at my daughter's school the fashion is for long tresses falling from the top of the forehead.
My wife has a hairdresser who does home visits. She decided to give my daughter a fringe - sorry , that's "bangs" in Amerakish. My daughter cried for three days. I mean, cried, solid, for three days. I think she stopped for five minutes at one point when she ate a bagel.
And you remind me of Billy Connolly's story that in the part of Glasgow where he was brought up, the barbershops used to have a sign "Haircuts Repaired".
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- emmline
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I get wispy little grow-backs in the front which, last Spring, my hairlady interpreted as bangs before I noticed what she was doing. Yikes. Since my hairline is about an inch above my eyes (yes--kind of troglodytian) bangs don't hang well and I had to contend with that for months. (including last May when I met Bloomfield in person. I know. Can you believe the humiliation? And his hair was perfect. I mean, the one hair that he had was perfect.)Innocent Bystander wrote:...She decided to give my daughter a fringe - sorry , that's "bangs" in Amerakish. My daughter cried for three days.
I'm finally, almost a year later, able to push that treacherous little lock behind my right ear.
The worst was about 20 years ago, at a new place. I pointed to a pic of a lovely model--her hair lovingly snipped into a bouncy, layered froth. I walked out with--what else?--a mullet. I wore a scarf until it grew out enough that I could hack off the bottom several inches and make it look like a self-inflicted bob.
hair trauma...hair trauma...
We're feeling for ya' Lamby.
- missy
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I haven't had my hair cut or styled for, geesh, probably 15 years. I just wear is plain and long, whack off the split ends every couple of months, and leave it at that. It's poker straight, baby fine, there's not a lot of it, and this "style" is probably NOT what would be recommended for me by a stylish - but too bad.
Oh wait, I did try a spiral perm sometime in there - burned the crap out of my hair and I had to keep cutting to get that all out.
Oh wait, I did try a spiral perm sometime in there - burned the crap out of my hair and I had to keep cutting to get that all out.
- Dale
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When one of my daughters was 16, she had a prom to go to. In the mid-afternoon she went to a stylist to get her hair, I dunno, put up or whatever. It didn't go well. She got back in the car with my wife crying and said, "Mom, you have to find me a gay guy." So, they drove across town to find this particularly well-thought of "gay guy." She walked into the shop and the guy and his co-workers were having lunch. They looked up from their lunches and gasped. "Oh MY GOD, Honey, what did they do to you?? Let me just put this lunch in the fridge and we'll take care of this!!" They swarmed around her and re-engineered her hair. Didn't charge her. It was heartwarming and hilarious. Would not take a dime from her. They've been the family hair guys since. My haircuts take about 2 minutes (slap on a #1 blade guard and mow it down) but I go to those guys whenever I can.
- CountryKitty
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Lambchop, dear, I am so sorry. I know people say that a bad haircut will at least grow out...but you have to live with it and your disappointment and (in this case) betrayal til it does.
Personally, I would go to the 'butch-er' s manager, explain that you will NEVER come back, and why. You were explicit that your hair was not to be thinned, only trimmed, and the hairdresser completeely disregarded--i.e., disrespected--your wishes. You had to go to his competitor and pay to have repairs done. If he is tactless enough to ask why you didn't have the repairs done there, point out that because the hairdresser who disregarded you had proven he couldn't be trusted with your hair in the first place. Maybe you'll save someone else the same heartache.
Start going to the shop where you were treated kindly and repairs to your do were taken care of. The people there at least showed concern for your situation and feelings about it.
Personally, I would go to the 'butch-er' s manager, explain that you will NEVER come back, and why. You were explicit that your hair was not to be thinned, only trimmed, and the hairdresser completeely disregarded--i.e., disrespected--your wishes. You had to go to his competitor and pay to have repairs done. If he is tactless enough to ask why you didn't have the repairs done there, point out that because the hairdresser who disregarded you had proven he couldn't be trusted with your hair in the first place. Maybe you'll save someone else the same heartache.
Start going to the shop where you were treated kindly and repairs to your do were taken care of. The people there at least showed concern for your situation and feelings about it.
- chas
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I was with a few people recently, and every guy, including myself, did his own hair. None of us could find someone who'd cut our hair short enough.Dale wrote:My haircuts take about 2 minutes (slap on a #1 blade guard and mow it down) but I go to those guys whenever I can.
None of the women could find someone who'd leave their hair long enough.
Charlie
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- izzarina
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Oh, Lamby!! I am so sorry!! Bad haircuts can be so traumatic...I had to endure one myself a few years ago. The person who tried to fix it later wondered if the hair stylist that did it was blind.
I hope it grows out quickly for you
I hope it grows out quickly for you
Someday, everything is gonna be diff'rent
When I paint my masterpiece.
When I paint my masterpiece.