I found myself sitting in the one of the most expensive hair salons in Vancouver back in the mid 80's, Suki's. High end~totally. Muted lighting bathed the hallway entrance into the salon, pictures graced the walls showcasing beautiful women with trendy, perfect hair, perfect bodies, perfect posture...just.perfect. I had shown up in a pair of too tight jeans and a t-shirt that had seen better days which hadn't bothered me at all until I looked around~had the other women dressed up especially to come here or were they all going out somewhere important after their appointments? Must be...who would come to a hair salon decked out like a gold digger on her first date with a billionaire only to have their hair cut and styled?
What in the heck was I doing in this place I thought to myself? $30 for a cut and style was an outrageous amount of money to spend when my last haircut had only cost $8.50. Well, maybe that was why I was there, my last haircut...I was currently sporting a hair-do that resembled a poodle at a dog groomers who had not wanted to sit still, now bearing the unmistakable markings of a clipper gone wild. Uneven patches pockmarked my head and bits of a fringe that had been forgotten fell over my forehead and into my eyes, periodically blinding me.
My name was called and I was ushered into the inner sanctum of coiffed hairdome. I honestly don't remember much about the next two hours except to say that I was miraculously transformed into something resembling normal, which under the circumstances was a massive feat of genius. I felt beautiful, pampered, indulged and worth every penny of the money I had laid down at the till. I never could afford to go back but it launched a quest to find a great hairdresser who could perform miracles without costing a fortune.
When I look back over the hair styles I've tried over the years I realized they all reflected how I was feeling about myself at any given time. I tried boring, I tried outrageous, I tried chopped off and permed tight, colored, short on one side and long on the other. I let my hair grow for 8 months one time without a cut or style...try to guess how I was feeling about myself at that point!
Finally I found the perfect hairdresser. She was cutting edge (haha) and trendy. Her salon was decorated beautifully and being there was an experience in sensory delight. Flowers, music...ambiance! All of her staff were professional and courteous leaving you with the distinct impression that this was more than a job to them, it was a mission to make you all that you could be. How I loved going there.
One day the inevitable happened, I had an affair. I found another hairdresser who promised dizzying new heights of pouf-pouf hair perfection at a cheaper cost. At that time I was a full time mom to three little ones, run off my feet with diapers, snotty noses and spilled cheerios and little money to spare on personal pampering. I had no time or energy to spend making myself beautiful, knowing full well that there was no haircut on the planet that would hide the bags under my eyes and tell-tale pouch where my abs used to be. As I sat in the chair my new hairdresser told me all the things my ears wanted to hear but my eyes knew were lies. I was ashamed...but how could I go back? My old hairdresser would never forgive the indiscretion and I couldn't live with myself knowing that I had let someone else wash my hair. The cheaper price ended up costing me a lot more than I bargained for.
I spent a number of years wandering in the valley of horrid hair when I realized one day that maybe I could go back...maybe she was ready to forgive me. Maybe if I showed her how sorry I was and asked her to fix the last louse-up of my locks she would take me back! I hesitantly picked up the phone and made the call.
Rhonda! Is that you? I haven't talked to you in so long, how have you been? I was speechless, couldn't hardly sputter I was so shocked. She wasn't mad? She didn't hang up the phone when I identified myself? Hadn't I sullied myself with another for the past number of years? Yet here she was, happy to hear from me again. I booked an appointment, crazy with the anticipation of once again having the perfect salon experience that I had been so desperately missing.
The grass is not always greener on the other side ladies...and if it is you'd better beware~she doesn't know how to mix her chemicals that's all I can say. If you have a great hairdresser don't be going off an looking for another. I won the lotto, kicked the coverage~whatever you want to say, all I know is that I will never leave again. Good hair makes a woman feel like she can conquer the world so if you're feeling a little down and out, book an appointment at your favorite salon and get pampered a bit. Immerse yourself in some "you" time and when you are done you'll be ready to tackle your life again. Case in point...my new hairspray tells it like it is~
What in the heck was I doing in this place I thought to myself? $30 for a cut and style was an outrageous amount of money to spend when my last haircut had only cost $8.50. Well, maybe that was why I was there, my last haircut...I was currently sporting a hair-do that resembled a poodle at a dog groomers who had not wanted to sit still, now bearing the unmistakable markings of a clipper gone wild. Uneven patches pockmarked my head and bits of a fringe that had been forgotten fell over my forehead and into my eyes, periodically blinding me.
My name was called and I was ushered into the inner sanctum of coiffed hairdome. I honestly don't remember much about the next two hours except to say that I was miraculously transformed into something resembling normal, which under the circumstances was a massive feat of genius. I felt beautiful, pampered, indulged and worth every penny of the money I had laid down at the till. I never could afford to go back but it launched a quest to find a great hairdresser who could perform miracles without costing a fortune.
When I look back over the hair styles I've tried over the years I realized they all reflected how I was feeling about myself at any given time. I tried boring, I tried outrageous, I tried chopped off and permed tight, colored, short on one side and long on the other. I let my hair grow for 8 months one time without a cut or style...try to guess how I was feeling about myself at that point!
Finally I found the perfect hairdresser. She was cutting edge (haha) and trendy. Her salon was decorated beautifully and being there was an experience in sensory delight. Flowers, music...ambiance! All of her staff were professional and courteous leaving you with the distinct impression that this was more than a job to them, it was a mission to make you all that you could be. How I loved going there.
One day the inevitable happened, I had an affair. I found another hairdresser who promised dizzying new heights of pouf-pouf hair perfection at a cheaper cost. At that time I was a full time mom to three little ones, run off my feet with diapers, snotty noses and spilled cheerios and little money to spare on personal pampering. I had no time or energy to spend making myself beautiful, knowing full well that there was no haircut on the planet that would hide the bags under my eyes and tell-tale pouch where my abs used to be. As I sat in the chair my new hairdresser told me all the things my ears wanted to hear but my eyes knew were lies. I was ashamed...but how could I go back? My old hairdresser would never forgive the indiscretion and I couldn't live with myself knowing that I had let someone else wash my hair. The cheaper price ended up costing me a lot more than I bargained for.
I spent a number of years wandering in the valley of horrid hair when I realized one day that maybe I could go back...maybe she was ready to forgive me. Maybe if I showed her how sorry I was and asked her to fix the last louse-up of my locks she would take me back! I hesitantly picked up the phone and made the call.
Rhonda! Is that you? I haven't talked to you in so long, how have you been? I was speechless, couldn't hardly sputter I was so shocked. She wasn't mad? She didn't hang up the phone when I identified myself? Hadn't I sullied myself with another for the past number of years? Yet here she was, happy to hear from me again. I booked an appointment, crazy with the anticipation of once again having the perfect salon experience that I had been so desperately missing.
The grass is not always greener on the other side ladies...and if it is you'd better beware~she doesn't know how to mix her chemicals that's all I can say. If you have a great hairdresser don't be going off an looking for another. I won the lotto, kicked the coverage~whatever you want to say, all I know is that I will never leave again. Good hair makes a woman feel like she can conquer the world so if you're feeling a little down and out, book an appointment at your favorite salon and get pampered a bit. Immerse yourself in some "you" time and when you are done you'll be ready to tackle your life again. Case in point...my new hairspray tells it like it is~
I feel like a queen!
