Lesson 13: The "Hair philanthropist"

So let's be honest: there are certain things women spend exceedingly more money on than their male counterparts. And most of them have to do with our appearance. The money that I spend on my bikini waxer, pedicurist, hair stylist, or lacey underwear, is money that my boyfriend doesn't spend at all. Now, as "unfair" as this might seem, I don't want a man with polished pink toes, $150 hair cut, or black lacey g-string. It would, however, be fair to say that once your boyfriend has gotten used to smoothly waxed everything, silky soft hair, polished feet, and sexy underthings, it becomes almost expected that you keep it up. Which is fine: I do these things regardless of a man in my life or not.

But the aesthetic luxuries add up financially. And as a student, I often have to sacrifice quality (aka the salon) for quantity (being able to maintain all these aspects). Now here is a mini-lesson to start off: NEVER sacrifice the quality of your esthetician. Eyebrows take awhile to grow back properly, and this is not the place for detail on how a bikini wax can go wrong, but take me word on it: I've been there, and its not worth the $20-30 you will save.
So, instead, I try to do at-home maintenance on my nails and toes, keep my eyes out for lingerie sales, and when times get tough...I'll admit: my sister and a box of hair dye double as a hair colourist.

Today's lesson, is a newly learned experience about sacrificing the quality of a hairstylist:

Every woman has a regular hairstylist they are comfortable with. They have likely been going to their stylist for years, and its a gossip session filled with laughing, but more importantly, filled with TRUST.
I have one. Her name is Jodi, she's great. I don't even have to tell her what to do, I just sit down and she does magic. The problem is that Jodi lives in Saskatchewan.

Finding a new hairstylist is more troublesome than finding a new doctor or dentist. And since I go home every 4-6 months, I try to make my hair cuts stretch out so that Jodi can do them, rather than someone I don't know or trust.

It's May. I was last home in December. Which means after dry winter weather, and overusing my flat iron, my hair is in desparate need of a trim. The ends are split and dry, and its getting to look a bit "grad student-esque". (You know that Simpson's episode where Bart cuts off the ratty ponytail of the grad student sitting in front of him? I was concerned that was me...)
But I'm going home in 3 weeks. Home to Jodi so she can make me a summer blonde and style my hair. I just needed a trim.

Its the end of the school term though, and I'm broke. So against my inner voice screaming "No!", I decide to go down to Magicuts, or Supercuts, or whatever the chain is, and have someone trim my hair.

Omen #1: I walk in and there are "stylists" sitting around.
Of course they can trim my hair...come on in!

Omen #2: The girl that is doing my hair has a frightening hair cut. Its purple and redish, spikey, yet mullet-like, and she's chomping on Hubba Bubba like she's trying to kill it.

So I sit down. I explain I just want a trim. Just the ends. As little as possible.
She says she'll take off about an inch. No prob.

Snip, snip, snip. She's cutting away. Quickly I might add.

Snip, snip, snip. Still cutting.

I point out to her how I normally do my hair. She reponds, "I'm going to texturize and give you layers."
I say no, please just trim it.

Snip, snip, snip. She pulls out a pair of odd-looking scissors. Now if it was Jodi, I wouldn't have been worried. But I'm worried now.

Snip, snip, snip. She says, "I'm just taking some weight out of your hair, its really thick."
Well, this is true, and Jodi says it all the time. I feel slightly relieved.

She finishes and its shorter than I hoped. But I don't care, I just want out. She offers to style it. I decline and hurry to the counter. The entire process costs $15. That's about 10 times less than I normally pay. Partially relieved at my savings, I leave with wet hair.

When I get home, I blow dry it and use the flat iron. And then I realize what she meant when she said "layer and texturize".
The back of my head has uneven chunks missing. I've been butchered. And, it shorter than I wanted.

Was she hearing-impaired? Did she not understand the word "no"? Or was it worse: a "hair philanthropist" who felt it her duty to give clients what she believed was best for them? The George W. of hairstylists--knows SFA yet feels the need to apply their twisted style to others in a pseudo-fascist kind of way?
Perhaps I'm being over-dramatic, but this girl must not have passed her journeyman's course: my sister did a better job to her hair when she was 3. (That time Mom left to the grocery store and my sister wanted to see how scissors worked with her bangs....Mom returned to find my sister with 1mm bangs and a few pieces of long hair on the sides. Hence, the mushroom cut throughout grade school.)

Let everyone learn from this lesson: you get what you pay for.
Now, I need to invest in a summer baseball cap....