Haircut

I got my hair cut!  Nobody is probably that surprised…that’s something we all do, right?  Umm…except me.

I don’t like getting my hair cut professionally.  I’ve had far too many bad experiences.  Sometimes “bad” simply means annoying.  Like I find it really frustrating when the hairdresser takes my hair clips out, lets down my 30ish inches of hair and looks disappointed in me.  I get the look of you-know-hair-isn’t-meant-to-be-this-long.  Or worse I’ll get a quippy comment from her, when she’s hoping we take off a lot and when I say all I want is a trim, she looks skeptical like my hair seriously needs a whack.  But often “bad” just means that the hairdresser doesn’t listen to me and cuts off more than I asked for because she thinks it will look good.  But it doesn’t look good because 1) I didn’t ask for it and therefore I don’t think it looks good when she improvises 🙂  2) she doesn’t add any kind of texturing style, just a simple whack.  Hair doesn’t look good whacked, in my opinion.

So here is the deal, I usually just have my husband trim my hair.  He is very even with the scissors, and he is even less willing for me to lose inches than I am. haha So I can always trust him to do a good job and I appreciate the time he takes to make me feel like my hair looks good.

Why in the world did I go get it professionally cut then?  Well after 4 years…*cough cough, did I mention I’m a phlegmatic?* I finally decided to take the plunge.  I wanted something “different.”  I love having long hair, but long hair = old hair and old hair = thin ends and thin ends = not what I wanted anymore.  So I researched and panicked and pinned and then finally made the phone call.  I looked extensively at hairdressers’ portfolios online and that’s how I found Maral.  She had quite a few “before and afters” for long-haired girls that didn’t simply mean: before=long, after=chopped to neck.  So I liked her.

When the day came, my stomach hurt so bad.  I was so nervous.  I was more scared to get my hair cut then I was for most of my O.B. appointments.haha  I had my phone loaded with pins of what I wanted and some horror pins of what I didn’t want.  My teeth might have been chattering a little bit.

When I met Maral and sat in her chair, everything changed.  She was so amazing.  She said she was a “hair realist” and liked to tell people the truth about what would work/look good and what wouldn’t.  When I explained that my length was crucial to my emotional state of being, but that I was tired of straight, super long, possibly prone to drying-out hair, she was honest and encouraging.  She said my hair was healthy, but that she agreed since it was long (equals old ends, see above) that my hair was thinner at the bottom.  She said I couldn’t achieve voluminous ends to my hair if it stayed 30 inches.  Apparently all my pinterest pics were deceiving me with extensions.  She said nobody can have 30 inches of hair that has the same volume/thickness from roots to ends.  She also recommended against getting layers, since that would thin my hair out more.  (I have very straight hair, so they weren’t going to curl voluminously).  The kicker was that I said since I have a newborn that I really only wanted wash-and-go hair, and that I wouldn’t have time to curl it.  She said if I had time to use hot tools, I could achieve some really pinterest-y hair, but since I didn’t want to do that, then I should stay simple.

In the end, she said what would look “different” but stay easy was simply framing my face.  It barely BARELY took out any “volume” because she thinned less than an inch collectively on either side of my part.  She shaped the back in a U/V kind of way, just to avoid the “little school-girl straight-across thing that has gotten people to ask me if I’m thirteen.”  A scary thought.  She said I should start with that for now because it wasn’t a huge commitment, but would make me feel “different” when I brush it in the mirror.

Moral of the story:  Maral is wonderful.  Getting your hair cut can be okay.  Long hair can still be “different.”  I can do this. 🙂

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