By about 20 mintues into the foils, I suspected something was going terribly wrong. When she was still foiling after an hour, she got another girl to start on the other side. (This was for the "few around my face.")
Somwhere in the back of my head, I heard a little voice say, What happens when two artists share one canvas?
Then I felt the new girl smashing the foils into my head, and I had a whisp of memory of my hair-dresser neighbor telling me, "You never want to push down on a foil--it will leave blobs of bleach. "
Again, that voice in my head, This can't end well.
It took 4 hours.
Even with it dripping wet, I could see the tiger stripes. In a very calm voice, I express my concern. She says, "If the highlights are too bright, we can put a little toner on it."
"Do that."
After the toner, I still have my doubts, but I'm late picking up Nancy from school. I decide to let it dry and be optimistic.
No amount of optimism can overcome the truth of the situation.
When Nancy sees me, she asks, "Isn't your book club tonight? . . .So, what are you going to do? . . ." Tactfully, she dodges the actual words.
I run Nancy to the DMV to get her driver's license (moment of silence, please!), then run back to pick up the little girls from school.
Lizzy is more direct: "Oh my gosh! Mom, what happened to your hair? Did you WANT it black and orange?" Joanne adds to the shock. We ruminate for a moment on Halloween hair.
In the car, I look more closely and realize that in spite of the tiger stripes and white spots, I can still see grey. Incredible! I think and think and rack my brain for what on earth they could possibly have done to make it worse?
I go back to get Nancy at the DMV, sign away my life and all future earnings so that she can drive. (The nice lady informs me that at any time I may come in and "revoke that signature which will, in turn, revoke Nancy's license," thereby irrevocably terminating our relationship. But nice to know. Thanks.)
We head straight back to the high school for her lacrosse practice where I drop her off. I return (having been gone since 10:30 this morning) to the salon. My hair is completely dry at this point--no discussion required. "How about an all-over dark brown?"
My hair is now a very standard, not to mention thrashed-to-high-heaven, dark brown. My scalp is tender and I smell like a chemical spill.
No, I did not take a picture.
(If you think I've exaggerated any part of this, talk to Lizzy.)
14 comments:
I certainly hope that they didn't make you pay! What a nightmare!
Now you know why I flew back to Seattle for two years to have my hair cut and foiled - it's so scary to try someone new. Since I'm not foiling anymore I've been brave and found someone here I am beginning to trust...It was one of the hardest parts of my move.
my mom used to say this phrase to me when i was younger, and i believe she said you used to say it: it hurts to be beautiful.
4 hours?! For that???? The classiest way I can think to say this is, "what a bummer." I'll have to inadvertently check it out when you get the mail or something...
Great post. Thank you for making me laugh again. Reading the post, I had visions of Marsali's orange hair when she was in high school. Do you remember the screams and the tears as dad took over to fix it?
I had a similar experience when I got a permanent in Korea. By the way hair stylist in Korea have only worked with thick, coarse, straight, hair. They have no idea that unusually thin, fine, and fragile hair might just disintigrate when permenant solutions are left on as long as is required for Asian hair.
They actually didn't have to unwind most of the curlers because the hair had just disappeared. My hair was curly and about an inch long around my head. The elders in my district were as tackful as Lizzy.
Thanks for conjurring up all these memories. It makes me grateful for my everyday variety of bad hair.
$5 Haircut at 7th South and 7th East in Salt Lake. They usually take about 10 minutes and I like the feeling when I help the homeless.
Thanks for the suggestion, Love, but a girl's got to have a few standards. 5 bucks is okay for pizza but not a haircut!
Oh my! Thanks for making me laugh! But I am sorry about your hair. These kind of stories are precisely why I have never found the courage to get highlights even though I probably should do something to change the hair style I have had since high school (YIKES!)
Aaaah Sally...having survived my daughter Sarah's beauty school years, can I just say from the bottom of my chemically altered split ends...I UNDERSTAND!
p.s. there's a GREAT conditioner called "10" it literally saved me from looking like a Chemo patient :)
Great story- I'm glad you got it fixed but wish there was a picture! Now I'm a little nervous to get highlights...
Actually, Sally, I think you could have pulled off tiger stripes. Think of the wardrobe! I'm sorry you caved. And even more sorry there's no picture. I'm the cousin who had her mother cut her bangs with pinking shears and they went uphill on one side. She was after the pixie look. I was mortified. Is a woman's hair really her crowning glory?
Oh Sally. What a riot to read your blog. I think we've all had our own versions of your predicament. The only consolation is "it will grow out again."
Ohhhh Sally, thanks for the laugh at your expense. I am so sorry about your hair experience. All I can add is (and I say this often) that hair is the bane of my existence.
Sally, I did the same thing last summer. But I could not bring myself to go back to the same girl. So I colored it myself. When I went to see Matt, he was in total shock. My hair was almost as short as his with brassy stripes. All because I wanted to save Money. Poor Dayna kept telling it didn't look so bad, but Matt kept telling me He loved me anyway. (Ha Ha Ha Ha.)
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