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Salon of Shame

11 May

Going to the hairdresser can be a dodgy, nay, frightening event. Yes, I have had visits like the horror visit that Samantha Miller experienced and when I wonder if I should ever move from my current salon, I revisit my memories and decide to stay, conservative as it may be.

These was the visit where I got off lightly with a chemical burn on my forehead thanks to a lousy application of perming solution and an I Don’t Give a Stuff senior hairdresser who obviously wished she was treating the hair of a sexy socialite instead of a poor student in a Launceston, Tasmania salon. This was around 20 years ago and I am still cranky about it.

Then the awful hair cut from a hairdresser in a salon called Gemini in Canberra, nearly as long ago. At one point, the cutter had made a fantastic shape to my hair, I loved it, and then (oh dear Lord) she kept on cutting despite me telling her to stop! It took months and months to grow out. Yes, yes, I know that hair grows but this was excruciating.

Last December I had a haircut with a different cutter. Instead of the neat, up-to-date style that I previously had, only a little shorter, I ended up with a dire cut that had me wearing hats all summer, even out of the sun. It’s May now and my hair has started to look good for the first time in months. I know it’s hard to do a good cut on wavy hair, and I am seriously considering just growing my hair long instead.

I have only myself to blame for the horrific tiger disaster. No Bengal tigers were damaged in my home hair dyeing adventure where I honestly believed I could put exciting blonde streaks in my medium-brown hair. Ha ha! The ‘comb’ that put streaks of bleach through my glossy mane instead put huge, wide, zebra-crossing strips through my hair. I found that underneath, I am actually a ginger. (Don’t mind that but I did object to pretending to be a tiger when I was actually trying to be a goth.) I hid from my housemates all evening, not an easy thing to do, and first thing in the morning, I walked down to the local hairdresser. Kudos to her, she said very little about my unwise actions, and merely dyed my hair a deep brown.

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Posted by on May 11, 2009 in Life Matters

 

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