This post was inspired by my recent visit to a new hairdresser. I chose this particular hairdresser for 2 reasons.
1. I was too embarrassed to go to my usual hairdresser
2. The salon across the road from my office
I was pleasantly surprised with my experience. My office is based in a rather quiet retirement ready coastal town. I had often wondered about visiting this particular salon, but had seen many a mobility scooter parked outside which made me feel uneasy about how modern a new cut I would get if the majority of the salon's clientelle were part of the bllue rinse brigade.
The salon was modern inside, I got a nice big coffee, and my stylist was funky. She was also nice. This is a big factor for me. I need to have a rapport with my hairdresser so that I can be honest with them about my hair, what I like, what I don't like etc.
The reason I am writing this post is because, after leaving feeling confident that I had found "the one" I suddenly realised that I am a hairdressing hussy. I am entirely guilty of dumping a couple of my hairdressers who were very skilled, and had worked wonders with my hair. I dumped them because I was too embarrassed to return. And I never learn. If they were boyfriends, I'd tell them, "It's not you, it's me"
Good hairdresser 2 was approached after a dreadful wonky graduated bob that I had treated myself to in one of the quick and easy salons. He very kindly and diplomatically agreed with me that I had done the right thing by coming in to his posh and rather expensive salon for a consultation a week after the bad cut. Later that week he fixed my bob and changed my hair for the better, as well as talking about long term plans for growing it back, and growing out very old traces of bleach that had frazzled my hair. I was happy again and made sure I always booked my appointments ahead to keep up with my 10 week visits. Overtime 10 weeks became 12 weeks and 12 became more, and summer crept in and so out came the bleach again and I really frazzled my hair again. I felt guilty, he had worked hard to get my hair back to good condition again and I had ruined it. Time to move on.
I'd seen a new salon pop up in town that summer, and who was in the window working his magic but good hairdresser 1, my old flame. I knew he was as good as and a lot cheaper than Good hairdresser 2 so went back. As soon as I walked in he was pleased to see me, but commented on the bleach and my dirty re-growth and immediately booked me in for highlights, which weren't cheap. He also cut my hair really nicely. As the highlights grew out, I put a dark colour on my hair. I was brave and returned for my next cut. He said he much preferred me dark and didn't tell me off. Maybe I could stay with this hairdresser. Maybe I needn't be ashamed anymore of my flighty attitude towards hair colouring. Again I was good with my regular appointments until I got really busy at work recently, and didn't have time to travel to see him nor the funds to pay for a cut. So gradually my hair became more bedraggled, my colour is faded and awful and my hair was in a rotten state so I was really too embarrassed to go back to him. So I dumped him. I dumped him for the new salon I went to last week.
Now I have built a rapport with my new hairdresser. She is nice, she understands I know I have abused my hair and I think she believes me that I won't do it again. She is putting my colour on next week. I've also told her about my wedding next year. So I think she's safe at least until then, because I will be nice to have someone to update on the progress of all the planning.
I am sure I am not the only one to be a hairdresser hussy. Are you?