Just look at her. She looks like an Asian Audrey Hepburn, gorgeous, petite and stylish. I don’t want to quit her but she cut my thick curly hair dry and that’s a no no. On the other hand, the color was good and it’s hard to find a colorist. Now that cutters are also expected to color—unlike the olden days when they where two separate specialties—you’re lucky if you find someone great at one.
Did I find that person? She must have learned to cut hair other than on youtube right? But when she treated my head like topiary that was a bad sign. After 5 stylists in 2 years, I’m exhausted. When your hair’s not working everything else seems not to be working.
So what do I know? She’s the stylist. You're the client. But then you should listen to you. You’re a grown woman. You know what works for your hair. Then how did I get vague pink hair when I asked for one streak from that one guy? And this is the second time a young hip stylist that attached my dry head with scissors. Then there’s the color that’s good one visit and awful the next. My partner says, “Did you tell them to write down the formula for the good color?” I hear myself like a schoolmarm as I say defensively, “I don’t want to teach her/him how to do her/his job.”
With the fear of yet another stylist gone wrong, I walked into a salon I hadn’t set foot in for 10 years and prayed. A nice man my age said he could fit me in. He was old school and understood when I asked for a feathered blow out like in the ‘80s. The color is classic. The cut is divine. I found my person. Now please don’t move, get fired or suddenly lose the formula for my hair.