I don't know if I've mentioned this before. This feeling only intensified when I moved to New York. I'm a jeans and t-shirt kinda girl; a very little make up if any at all girl; a virgin hair kind of girl. And even though I went to a lower-priced salon rather than a swanky one, I left feeling like a frumpy dumpy girl.
I wanted to go here. I'd heard they're good at cutting curly hair and I have always said if I found a really awesome place where they know how to cut my mane, I would pay. But last night I bought my new baby. She's a beautiful new MacBook. And babies are expensive. So I opted for the place a couple blocks away and ended up having my hair cut by a stylist who was a complete ass to me.
First he asked if I color my hair. When I said "no," he asked why not. Uhhh... because I haven't? I was a bit insulted. Then he asked what kind of shampoo and conditioner I used. I then wracked my brain to remember what drug store brand is currently on my shelf in the shower. After I replied he said very abruptly, "It's not working. Your hair is very frizzy." I was a bit gobsmacked, I must say. I'm used to getting compliments on my hair. I consider it to be one of my better physical features. I'm constantly being told by hairdressers never to color it, not to straighten it, and I don't. I don't have the patience. My relationship with my hair is love/hate... this has progressed dramatically from the hate/hate relationship that I had with it in my teens. After trying to fight the curl (unsuccessfully, I might add) I decided to let go and let my curl flag fly. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, right? Armed with a bit more knowledge (and a lot more mousse!) I think my hair and I have successfully made peace.
But I guess Mr. Stylist Douchebag disagrees with me. After he finished cutting my hair he tried to sell me the salon's product but after the major purchase I made last night, I wasn't buyin. I'd put the bottles back on the counter but when I got up to pay he pushed them into the girls' hands and said "These too." Thanks, dude. I'll make my own purchases. I declined. I also was not informed that because I called ahead and made an appointment, my hair cut was more expensive. Pissed off at this point, I paid and got the heck outta dodge. It is disgustingly pouring rain outside, so I took my rain-infused frizzy head home and complained to my roommate about my bad hair day.
I will not be returning to the "conveniently close" salon. I'll get on the 1 if it means not dealing with that again.