So I got my hair cut. I had a side fringe put back in, and this was a problem for quite a few reasons.
- I had planned on being fringe-free until September. This is because I was liking being able to do exciting things with my hair that got it off my sweaty forehead over summer.
- I had planned on it being September as a sort of New City New Me thing, plus winter style.
- I get v stressed when my schedule is disrupted like this.
- When my hairdresser (who I’ve had for at least 3 years now) asked what I was having done and I said “a bit of a restyle”, she pulled a face which I spent the next hour trying to pretend I didn’t see and was therefore not annoying my hairdresser by asking for a haircut.
So why the fringe, you ask?
Basically because I look a lot better with one and I was sick of looking terrible. And the way I had to style my fringe every day so it didn’t get in the way.
But the hair dresser stresses me out anyway for so many reasons – the main ones being:
- Around an hour of close-quarters social interaction. Neither myself nor my hairdresser are particularly chatty people. (I find my attitude towards small talk summed up perfectly by my favourite author, David Eddings, whose character points out the window when asked why he doesn’t talk about the weather, and replies “why? It’s right there.” And we all know about the stereotypical barber’s chair:- “So are you going anywhere nice this year?” No. Go away.).
- The fact that the rest of the hairdressers and their clients are in fact chatty, and I feel like I’ve let down them, my hairdresser, the salon, my mum, my dog, and the population of my fish pond by taking the “speak when spoken to” attitude (because of course no-one wants to hear anything from my mouth because no-one cares and it’s annoying?! (So I started a blog!)).
- The hair washing. What do I do with my legs – crossed (knees or ankles?), spread, together? Do I sit up for the towel-dry or stay lying? And when the massage takes place, it’s all I can do not to smile and fall asleep.
- The hair cut. Whatever I ask for is impossible on my long thick hair with a funny hairline. And then I feel stupid for requesting a particular cut. Once the scissors are in motion, where do I look? Do I check myself out in the mirror? Do I keep a close eye on the scissors, therefore running the risk of appearing distrusting? Do I appear rude if I spy on the other customers and what they’re having done? Don’t even get me started on drink etiquette (WHEN DO I DARE TAKE A SIP??).
- The check. “Do you want any more off?” Yes but I don’t want to sound as if you haven’t pleased me or annoy you by asking you to carry on working on my head. “I’ll hold the mirror up so you can see the back – is this ok?” WHAT THE EVER-LOVING HELL HAVE YOU DONE TO MY HAIR??! “Yeah that’s great thanks.”
- Paying. I always feel incredibly guilty when I just say I’ll (get my mum to) call to book my next appointment rather than booking one there and then. Does it make me seem like I’m debating going back there or?
It’s a minefield out there, I tell ya. Why is it not acceptable to walk around like an unkempt gorilla? Come on guys, it’s 2015…
Hope everyone’s ok out there!