No, it’s not as interesting as the title implies. This is about dyeing your hair. Or, more specifically, how my hairdresser doesn’t understand how to do her job.
I went in to get my roots touched up. I had a super awesome dye job done in Seattle that was a combo of intense light and dark streaks and the roots were out of control – so I wandered into Chemically Addicted on Davie and asked them to “fix this”. The hairdresser proceeded to pile on mountainÂ of foil containing blond highlights. In retrospect I should have been more specific and toldÂ them to put in highlights and lowlights to keep the same style. Unfortunately, she just loaded on the highlights – 3 hours and $250 later I look like a bleach blond prostitute. She also totally neglected to do the bottom of my hair – later claiming she thought I wanted a ombre look. First of all, I never uttered anything that resembled the word ombre – she was just being lazy. And she clearly doesn’t understand the concept that Ombre means darker on top. When I pointed it out she pouted saying she didn’t know I would be wearing my hair in a ponytail all the time. That’s not the point. And let me tell you – it is NOT my fucking decision to tie my hair up at work every damn day of my life. And thanks – because this looks exactly like something a professional grown up would do to their Â hair.
Top half bright as the sun? Check! Bottom half darker than the dark side of the moon? Check! AWESOME!
Here’s what Ombre actually looks like. Quite different that the accidental reverse ombre she gave me, isn’t it?
My favorite part of getting my hair done is when she brought up the Â Luka Magnotta case and said she has nightmares about it. I sorta mentioned my criminology degree and how the worst part was taking courses that focused on genocide. She told me she’d heard the term genocide before but was not sure what it meant. I realized the whole salon had fallen silent listening to our conversation and quickly muttered that it was when someone killed off a whole group of people. She nodded knowingly “like when a dad kills his family.”
ummmm “no, more like Hitler” .
“oh yeah, my boyfriend’s jewish”.
OK. Glad we got that cleared up. Lacey is adorable. But I sure would never recommend her. I really wanted to tell her that genocide is like barbicide but with people instead of germs.
My second favorite part of the whole ordeal was when Lacey stepped out for a moment and another hairdresser came over to see if I was all right – because he had never seen anyone with so many foils put on before.
Yeah, I survived, thanks.
I have gotten a lot of compliments though….sort of. One person said that I looked so good they weren’t sure it was really me. Another asked me if I got a sunburn because I look really young now. Is that a compliment? It was from a guy – so who knows what he was trying to say.
Next time I get my hair done, I’m just going to tell them to give me my regular dumb old mousey brown back.