Hair World

So I was a hair model.  Sounds very Tyra, doesn't it?  It's not really.  The moniker, I'm pretty sure, is a way to get people to commit to getting their hair done by students learning to cut hair.  Seeing that I am terrified of beauty salons since I looked like a boy for a solid three years because I got my hair "layered" in the late 80s and after that it was one train wreck after another plus the fact that most salon reception desks are about as high as deli counters which also unnerves me because they are too tall for me (ask Eddie about when I couldn't reach to sign the credit card receipt at the Italian deli and the deli man laughed at me as did Eddie...he loves that story)....where was I?  Oh, yes, I don't go to the salon.  I usually snip the ends of my hair as the split ends appear and then go about my day.

But I was helping out someone who needs to learn.  I'm a teacher.  I can't refuse education.  Plus, my hair?  Really needed a cut bad. It's bad when you can tell that curly hair like mine needs to be cut.  Straight hair you can tell right away.  Short hair definitely shows.  But long curly hair doesn't show until it really really needs it. 

I walked in and said who I was there for.  They then offered me coffee, tea, or water.  Ahhh, so it was one of those places.  Fancy.  The salons I used to go to didn't do such things.  Unless it's been so long that I've been to a salon that this is a phenomenon that has happened in all salons that I've missed during my absence.

The consultation:
After getting a robe (really, a robe! but I didn't do anything embarrassing like take off my clothes before putting on the robe--I'm not that out of touch), I sat in the chair and consulted with both student and educator.  We discussed about three inches of length and then the educator said, Everyone's three inches is different, so I showed her where my hair could fall.  I said, if it's a little longer, that's fine, but no shorter than that. I was supposed to be there for a blunt cut, the lesson of the day, but the educator offered some long layering just in the front.  I mumbled a few sounds because while she knew best, I didn't want to screw up the lesson. 

The wash:
The shampoo and conditioner smelled really really good.  Nick Arrojo from What Not To Wear has a line of products out.  Who knew?  Well, plenty of people probably know.  Again, I'm not in touch with such things as "product."  I call it, Shampoo, not Product.  Anyway, I expressed my love of the aroma of the product, but also explained that I'd recently gone to Shecky's where I received a curly hair product.  It was free!  I didn't add that part.

The cut:
After getting a cape (over the robe across the front of it--oh, I failed to mention that I didn't know how to put the robe on and asked, front or back?, and she answered, it's like a jacket), the cut began.  Before every snip, the educator watched and instructed and the student stylist asked questions and responded to direction.  I wasn't all that worried.  Hair grows back.  Plus, I was in it now, having been draped in several layers of robe and cape.  She asked, Where do you part your hair?  Hahhhahahaaa.  What kind of question is that?  I answered, Wherever it falls, somewhere here, and I untangled my arm from under the layers to show her where my hair parts itself on most occasions.

My hair is a challenge.  It's way curly and kinky.  It's also a lot thinner and finer than it looks.  So basically, every time she did something she'd learned, the educator was like, Yes you're doing what I taught you, but in this case, do this instead.  It was the Great Unlearning.

I also was subject to hear things like, Follow the occipital...hers is particularly high, and Yes, her hair is easy in this part because it's so clear where it dries out at the ends.  You know, compliments.

The styling:
The cut took so long that my hair had dried into a big fuzzball, so we went back to the sink to drown my hair for styling.  We put through some more Nick Arrojo curly hair product, and then she wanted me to flip my hair forward to use the diffuser.  I was like, You're gonna wanna step back for this, and then whipped my head forward, my hair falling after.  She indicated how I should use the diffuser to avoid frizz.  I later told her that I'm the only curly-haired girl in the world who does not own a diffuser, admitting further that I don't even own a real hair dryer.  I use a travel sized one.

The outcome:
She took pictures of the final style.  They both asked what I thought.  The cut came out to exactly where I'd indicated at the beginning.  I then said, It's exactly what it should be and I will now walk around feeling like I'm bald for the next week.

 

Really, I've been in awe at how short my hair is.  However, no one else is in awe because it's still long and no one can tell that I've gotten a hair cut.  But I know.  My hair knows.  My hair stylists know.  It's out there.