Tragic Haircut

Some people have bad hair days. Me, I seem to have bad hair months.

I’ll be honest. I’m one of those women who is uber-sensitive about her hair. I cut it short (for me) when Pea was about one year old. Too many people (for my liking) commented how much YOUNGER I looked without the long hair. (Very traumatic, indeed, just to lose the hair – now I look younger without it. Heaven help me.)

So, having given up my favorite stylist in the City (yes, for what she charged, I get to call her a stylist, and not a hairdresser, whatever) and struggling through various salons here in the suburbs who provided mediocre at best haircuts (one cut, I swear, I had in 8th grade), I finally found one who I love.

Oh, sure, I usually come home and, after styling it myself, stare in the mirror in shock, dread, and fear that I’ll never go out without a ball cap again, figure out how to style it and move on to griping about my weight gain.

But last week, I got it. The WORST CUT EVER. (well, actually, the second worst cut ever. The first worst cut was about 10 years ago, when a new-to-me stylist asked how I liked it, and I said I loved it, but could she trim by bangs just a titch, they grow so fast, blah blah blah…and she gave me the Ally McBeal bangs. Da bitch).

How to explain it? Well, do you remember the episode of Friends where Phoebe give Monica a haircut and Phoebe confuses “Demi” Moore for “Dudley” Moore? Yes, dear readers, THAT is the haircut that I was given. For those of you who don’t quite remember that episode, or the fated cut, there is a great recap on Jennifer Aniston’s Hair Styles. So no photos of the haircut are necessary.

Two days later, after much playing with the cut, we’ve made some progress. Yes, folks, I’ve moved from Dudley Moore, to Jon Bon Jovi. Again, I don’t want this documented for history, so lets just say it looked more like this:

And while Jon is really hot, (yeah, we’re on a first name basis – heck we have the same hair!) its not quite the look I was going for.

After much play, I have managed to get it calmed down. Now, my ever transitional hair looks more like Sally Hershberger’s famous shag. And let me be clear – the one on her head, not the celeb shags. She is cool and funky and slim. I am not. (For those of you who didn’t watch “Shear Genius” on Bravo, Sally invented the shag. I curse her.) I have actually received a compliment or two. However, if you could see the major frankendoo that I wake up with, or the amount of hair product and flat ironing technique required to get it to a passable look, you’d be as frustrated as me.

So, for the time being, there will be NO photographs of me. (Not that there ever are, as I’m the one operating the camera). Although, I might have fun and see how many hairdos I can recreate.

Yes. One major Hair Fail extravaganza!

To be continued…

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