Home of the brash, outrageous and free.

So, where were we?

I needed a haircut. Because of my general screw-up nature, I put these things off and when I need a haircut, I need a haircut.
The last haircut I got was from this place downtown, right after I ordered Belle and Sebastian tickets (it was a good weekend all around). I like this place a lot: my hairdresser was comfortable with curly hair and friendly and I got to drool over this lovely wooden clutch I want.
I'm not the only one who's a fan of this salon. When I called for an appointment, it was three weeks until an opening that I wouldn't have to take personal time to get to.*
There's an Aveda salon in the same strip mall as my usual grocery store. I like Aveda stuff**, and a former coworker with kinda curly hair had said good things about it. Plus, as it turned out, they're a bit cheaper.*** Luckily, they had a spot with the curly expert.
Here's the haircut I got, soon after (Figure A):

I like the haircut, but I don't think I'll be going back to this place.
First of all, I'm a bit worried about how it's going to grow out. The layers all seem a bit too close in length, and I worry that it won't grow down so much as out.
But mainly, I was underwhelmed with my hairdresser. It's not just that we didn't click. It's not just that the only small-talk/personal question she asked me was if I was married.
Here follows a list of somewhat ridiculous, somewhat justified things I didn't like about her.

• When she used a product, she didn't tell me what it was. Even when the product in question was something we had talked about earlier (their hairwax in the deodorant/pushup type container--I used to use this all the time). How am I supposed to even attempt to duplicate her styling if I don't know what she's using? Also, don't salons make a profit when they sell products? Isn't it in her best interest to push their stuff on me?
  
• Curly hair can't be cut on one part, and then styled on another. I told her I part pretty severely to the side. She didn't ask me to demonstrate until I interrupted to mention my habits. She let me show where I part, which I did half-assedly (expecting her to pretty it up), and then she began cutting from there.
  
• OK, most have you have never seem my natural part. It's just to the side of a middle part. Just enough to make it look like I tried to have a middle part, but couldn't hack it. It's not cute. This is what she assumed I was using when I said, "I part my hair pretty far over to the side."
  
• I tend to tuck the right side behind my ear. Shorter bits are okay, because otherwise one side of my head's a lot bigger than the other (this is typical of curly hair, even when it's straightened), but it still needs to reach behind my ear. Long enough to reach behind my ear while sleek and smooth and wet and untouched is nowhere near long enough to reach behind my ear producted-up, blown dry, straightened, and producted some more.
  
• If it's too short, it knocks into my glasses. I don't think this woman had ever cut the hair of someone with glasses before.
  
• She kept asking me if I liked how it looked at times when I couldn't throw the specs on.
  
• She claimed there was no difference between ceramic and regular straightening irons. That's the first time I've ever heard that, from anyone.
  
• It was the shortest, least informative new client hair consultation I've ever had.
  
• I don't think she'd ever had a customer request "piece-y" before. I love piece-y hair. I can't do it, but I try to.
  
• My hair looks great right after someone else has beaten it into submission. I need a cut that is also going to look great after I've beaten it into submission.

It's not that my hair looks bad a week later, per se (Figure B), but I can't help but think it would look better and be easier to dominate if I had gone to the other place.

So next time, I'm planning in advance, paying the extra $10, and going to the place I can walk to from my apartment.

Figure B:


*Yeah, I thought about doing that.
**While I think Aveda makes a good product, mostly what I like about their stuff is the smell. It reminds me of the Wicca store on Carson St.
***Haircuts are possibly the only thing that I'm willing to pay a bit more for, because I've had so many shitty ones.

His telephone is found.

I get my hair cut about once every 5-6 months. I don't do this on purpose; it just kind of happens that way. I good haircut grows with your hair and keeps looking good, until one day I look in the mirror and hate everything.
It's triangle-y and flyaway and overwhelms my tiny face and makes my glasses look even more nerdishly crooked.*
And that's when I get the majority of it chopped off. This is something I've been doing for about 8 years now, since the first all-chopped-off my junior year of college. Before that, there were years of trimming the nasty ends but keeping length, which started as an attempt to even out the horrible layers.
OK, perhaps we should have some timeline action. Also, keep in mind that I have the worst kind of jewfro: some tight curls, some looser ones, frizzies, etc. etc.

1979: Born. Completely bald until 2.

1983 (about): OK, I have a really vague memory of having cute pigtail braids at a family function. Long ones.

1984: It's all chopped off evenly around my head. In kindergarten, I get mistaken for a boy in the bathroom. Or, some older girl thinks it's funny to call me a boy. Yeah, I was that kid, the one everyone thought it was fun to mess with.
late 80s-mid 90s: The hair gets longer, but the top layers are still short. This haircut is why I hate my childhood pictures, and (if I could get real emo for a second) kinda the main reason behind every "I'm ugly" thought I've ever had.

1994 or so: Start growing the top layers out. Little boxy for a bit, but somehow works well with the stereotypically mid90s weird kid look I begin cultivating, after realizing how hardcore I suck at looking normal.**
This is also when I begin with the black hair dye, and when I realize that changing up the wash/dry/braid/whathaveyou cycle even a little causes my hair to look dramatically different.

1996 (at least, I think so; my mom doesn't remember this at all): Realizing that my hair won't take any fun colors without bleach, I come up with a plan to take the color out of a chunk of my hair, a la Caitlyn from Degrassi(see Fig A). Then, the plan went, I would dye it various colors. I enlisted Kerenq Gilboa and we commandeered some black hair dye (for the rest of my head), some facial bleach (I know!!), and a bathroom in her house. I don't think any pictures survive of this look, but I bet they'd be hilarious.

1998: Before my intro to mass comm recitation, I get all my hair chopped off at a trusted salon. It looks very cute.
This is when I switch over to red dye sometimes.


Fig A:





*'Nother xboy gem:
Jessy--Do you think my glasses are noticibly crooked to everyone, or is it me?
Andy--I love your crooked glasses and how nerdy they make you look.
Points for trying, right?

**Seriously--I'm terrible at looking like everyone else. Even as a Halloween costume. Cara's Certain Filmmaking X makes a better Republican than I do a sorority girl.

the second drummer’s drowned

I need a new haircut. What does eveyone think of these? Obviously, some involve more beating-into-submission than others, and keep in mind my tiny round face and steretypically hipster glasses.
(Also, did everyone catch the "pottymouth" comment on the last post? Hee.)