When I was a reporter and my hair was seen by tens of thousands of people each night, I saw the point of investing $100 a pop on coloring my hair. But when I started freelancing and I no longer was in front of a camera five days a week I began to get buyers remorse after visiting the salon for pricey highlights. I just thought I’d rather spend that $100 on massages or facials– things I consider to be more enjoyable activities.
But yesterday I decided to get my hair professionally colored for the first time in about a year and a half. I wanted to go lighter and get rid of any reddish tint in my hair. Those were the only two instructions I gave the colorist.
Have you ever been sitting in the salon chair, hair covered in dye and started to panic? I could see my hair turning the color of straw, but I kept telling myself that she knew what she was doing. My first hint that something had gone wrong– seriously wrong– was when she said, “Hmm. The top didn’t turn out quite like I wanted.” “The top? I thought it was all supposed to be one color,” I silently shouted in my mind. But I took a deep breath and reminded myself that it is only hair.
You see, I am not a complainer. At least not in public. I grew up with a mom that yelled at everyone, even grocery store cashiers who put the change on top of her bills instead of the other way around. Add that to my years of getting yelled at by customers in various restaurants where I waited tables and I’m just over it.
But the stylist had a hunch I wasn’t going to like it. She even booked me an appointment for Sunday so she could fix it without me even asking. I guess that’s how you know when your hair is a disaster. That and I resemble Richie Rich. In fact, just as I write this a cute little kid looked at me and giggled– proof that I really do look like a cartoon character! Richie Rich is cool and all, but I’m not sure I like resembling him.