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Saturday, 17 November 2012

Pampering at the Parlour?

Social convention dictates that every girl will like going to the hairdressers, that they find it a treat, a luxury, something that they look forward to. For me, it is something which I dread, something which I don't look forward to; I would rather visit the dentist (some people's nightmare!) than go to the hairdressers!

The reason I hate visiting the hairdresser so much, is because every time I go, it always ends up going the same way. I feel I would have more fun tackling a flying hippopotamus than sitting that "swivelley"chair with that "plastic cloak" suffocating your comfort-ablity. 

Whenever I decide to go get my hair cut, I am always such the optimistic gorilla.

So, I always enthusiastically choose where I want to go this time (as it may be better than the place I went to last time... but it never is!). And within the first few footsteps in the salon, I feel nervous- I am filled with looks of judgement from everybody in there and it is not a place I would call my Wonderland!

I never know what style to go for, I always just want my hair trimmed (that's all!). But then I am dunked with a bucketful of questions from the hairdresser: "What side do you wear your fringe?... Do you want it choppy?... Do you want this treatment?..." And my answer to it all is "I DON'T KNOW! Just trim it!"

Then, there is the uncomfortable factor of small talk once you are in the chair. Usually, hairdressers are supposed to come up with it for themselves, but the ones I have been to have been so awkward and have been able to make a lion's den worse for me! 

What I always do though, is stipulate exactly how much I want off. Apparently, hairdressers' rulers aren't the same measurement as the rest of the universe! 1 inch to them is 3 inches to everyone else! This is why, I have resorted to showing them with my fingers how much I want off, because measurements just don't work! And then after all these questions and hard work of  explaining, I sit vulnerably in the Chair of Distress.

And. So. Many. Demands. From these hairdressers! "Head Down. Look right. Sit still. Get me some coffee!" (Okay, so I made the "Get me some coffee" up, but they might as well ask for it with all their demands!) 

Most of the time, I couldn't look worse than after I've been to the hairdresser. I hate the way they've done it. It's too short. They blow-dried and straightened it into the smithereen it is and now I have to go out into public with this newly-done disaster! It cost a fortune and all I want is some milk and cookies to cheer me up!

Then comes the horrible part. They bring out that nasty small mirror (To confirm your hatred of your new hair) but you have to convince them that you love it and are so happy with it and the tears in your eyes are from happiness! But what you really want to do is put a hoodie on so you don't have to deal with your new hair cut and go home!

Things don't get better when you get home. You go up to the closest mirror there is, just to check if it is as short as your remembered and styled in the completely wrong way. And everyone you talk to tries to convince you that it isn't that bad but through the mirror it starts to look worse and worse and worse until you start to over-react and think that your hair has turned into green slime of misery forever.... and this is only 5 minutes within the time you get back from the salon!

After all of this. You continue to look in the mirror on a daily basis for a few days, until one day you stare at your new hair-do and decide that actually it isn't that bad... You can live with it! 

And then you leave it to grow out until... The Next Dreaded Appointment!

(NOTE: A small amount of hairdressers think and act like this.)

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