Thursday, August 14, 2008

It shouldn't be THIS hard to get a decent haircut...

You know what happens when you don't get your hair cut for 5 months? Your salon closes up shop. And no one tells you.

For the love of crap.

I spent two years trying to find a salon I liked - one where I wasn't asked a billion questions by a prying stylist, who would then forget my story and make me tell it all over again the next time I was in. I tried three different salons and at least as many stylists before finding a place and a stylist I felt comfortable with.

Yeah, she was a bit of a wing nut, my stylist, but she was nice. We only had to have the Thomas/infertility conversation once, she did a good job with my hair, and if I got her talking about herself (particularly her husband's ex) I could sit back and barely have to say a word.

She was so good, in fact, my last cut lasted five months.

But she's gone.

For the love of crap.

The prospect of finding a new salon (even though they're a dime a dozen around these parts for some reason) and breaking in a new stylist (having the "soooooo, do you have any kids? chat for the umpteenth time) just left me cold. Been there, done that. Four times.

My solution? I'm going back to the salon from whence I came. My old stylist, pre-marriage. More than a half hour away in my old neighbourhood, but worth the effort. Well worth not having to decide if I'm going to be the dead baby mama or the thirty-something woman with, curiously, no children.

Rosa already knows my story because my sister still goes to her. Granted I haven't seen her since my wedding day so it's possible there may be a deer-in-headlights waiting for me when I walk into the salon, but at least she already knows.

For once I don't have to explain.


Margaret said...

Ugh! Sorry about the salon closing up. I had that happen too, dang it!

I'm glad you are going back to your first stylist. Hopefully it will be a good cut AND conversation.

Bronwyn said...

Sorry you lost your salon! Hope the one in your old neighbourhood works out. I decided a while ago that my hairstylist is one person who I didn't need to vomit forth the Lydia/menopause story to, so like you, I just ask her a couple of leading questions and let her rip (she's an older Greek lady, so she's got lots of family stuff to gossip about). It is amazing how the tendrils of babyloss can affect so many different parts of our lives!