Monday, 16 February 2015

On Surviving a Dodgy Haircut

Hey Ragers and Ragettes!!  It’s a cool and rainy day in St Helens so I am wearing my vintage polka dotted wraparound dress and my comfortable brown knee high stiletto boots.  I have out make up on today and I am feeling much better about things.  

On Thursday I went to the doctor after I had a coughing fit that lasted a half an hour and the result was a massive head ache.  I managed to get a doctor’s appointment and it turned out to be bronchitis.  So I am on a course of antibiotics and cough medicine.  I am feeling much better, not 100% yet but I will be back to normal in a few days.

With my Bronchitis I had to completely rejig my Valentine’s Day plans.  I ended up having to cancel dinner as I didn’t feel well enough to go out.  Plus a snotty nose on my gorgeous cobalt blue jumpsuit?  Bad idea!!!  It’s ok though.  The jumpsuit will get an outing in March 6th when we all go out for drinks for work.

I was excited about Saturday not only because it was Valentine’s Day’s but because I was getting my haircut.

The one thing that I love the most, pamperingwise, is getting a haircut.   There is nothing more relaxing than getting your hair washed and being fussed over.    Plus my hairdresser is fab!! 

He’s eccentric and slightly crazy but he is seriously the best colour correctionist that I have ever had the pleasure of knowing,  He knows his products and uses only the best products for hair and scalp.  He’s a perfectionist about the colour; an appointment to get my hair done literally take 3-4 hours just to do my colour.

I was also so excited because I was being brave and going for a pixie crop haircut.  It’s a daring haircut but if it is done correctly, it can be feminine, gamine, soft and flattering.  It was also an opportunity to cut off some of my dead, over colour ends on my hair.  Let some fresh hair grow and start over.  Who knows!  I might love the pixie crop and have that be my signature style!

I sent 2 photos to my hairdresser.  One of the gorgeous Gennifer Goodwin and one of the ever glam Jennifer Lawrence.  I wanted something in between those 2 styles.   I figured as well that when I go to the gym it will be easier and quicker for me to style and get ready in the morning.  Plus when you go out at night you can really sex it up a bit by either going sleek or messy. 

So I sat down excitedly on the stylist chair and we looked at the photos and he started to chop at my hair.

I heard the buzzing of the clippers and I didn’t think anything of it.  I mean, he would have ot remove a lot of hair to get the desired look, wouldn’t he?

He did the back of my hair with such scientific precision.  I was surprised that he didn’t measure it with a ruler or a micrometer!

Once he finished cutting my hair he started the colour.  Now he mixed up a gorgeous shade of cherry red.  In the bowl it looked gorgeous!  So rich!  He put it on my hair and then I sit for about 45 minutes while it developed.  I didn’t mind.  I was quite content reading rubbish celebrity magazines.  I just loved being in the salon!

The colour finished and I was escorted to the sink to wash the colour off.   

Nothing is more relaxing than having someone massage your head as they wash your hair.  If I wasn’t in public I probably would have started to purr and possibly orgasmed!  He put deep conditioner on my hair and I had another scalp massage.  Heaven...

He put a conditioning treatment on and I sat there with my head back while it was setting.  Then it was washed off and I was escorted to another chair where my hair dresser started to cut my hair a bit more.  He started to chop at the sides.  He was making the sides go at an angle.   He was cutting fast and furiously.  I started to get nervous.

He then stopped and took out the hair dryer and started to dry my hair.  He finished and the colour....wow!!  It was stunning!!!  A beautiful red cherry shade.  Shiny and beautiful.  He looked at it and said, I’m not happy. 

I looked at him quizzically.  He said, it isn’t a clean enough red!  So he started mixing up more hair colour.  This gave me time to suss out the hair cut.  The back was how I wanted it to look.  The front and sides?  Not so much!

He caught me looking at my hair and said, don’t worry Betty, I’m not finished with the cut yet.  I breathed a sigh of relief.  Surely he wouldn’t let me leave with the cut looking like this?

He put another lot of dye on my roots and I was sitting under the big dryer for another 20 minutes as it set in.

Once the colour finished developing again, I was led to the sink to get it washed off and re shampooed, another scalp and head massage.  Fabulous!!

Once I was all shampooed and conditioned I was lead to the hair dressing chair where my hair dresser brandished a pair of scissors.  He started cutting again.  He was fast and well, before I could protest he said, finished!!

Ragers and Ragettes....I almost burst into tears.  My hair style wasn’t the cute little pixie cut that I had longed for.  No.  The only way that I could describe it is lesbian truck driver.  He cut my hair so short on my right hand side.  No cheeky fringe.  He combed my hair over to the right hand side that was a bit longer.  The back looked ok it was the front and sides.  The part that everyone notices that looked dreadful.  I was in such a state of shock that I went on auto pilot.  I heard myself saying oh it’s lovely!! 

He took his camera out and took a photo.  I bought some shampoo and paid and walked out.  When I got to my car I burst into tears.  My hair looked dreadful.

I drove home and was dreading showing Simon.  So when I came in, he was silent.  He said, it’s different.  He hugged me and I just sat there feeling ugly. 

People don’t realise it but a woman’s hair is her crowning glory.  It makes a woman what they are.  The wrong cut or colour on a woman can age her instantly.  The right cut and colour can make you look fabulous.  So when a woman gets a dodgy haircut, it saps her confidence.  Yes it grows out but in those 3-4 weeks she has to cope with feeling not right and like she’s ugly. 

That’s how I feel.  My hair has been massacred and I now have a few dilemmas:
1.        Should I wear a scarf or hat to cover this mess?
2.       Should I even leave the house?
3.       My hair dresser is a great colourist but obviously can’t do a pixie cut.  Do I go back or do I get someone to clean up his mistake?
To make matters worse, Simon is now poking fun at me and usually I will have banter back but this is a real sore point for me.  I genuinely feel violated and I have lost my quirky sense of humour about it.

So am I now looking at funky scarf styles, channelling the African Princess look.  Surely I can pull that off?

But I sit back and I realise that now I have gone through the 7 stages of grief, I have to accept that my hair cannot grow back to the way it was overnight and that for the next 3-4 weeks I am going to have to make the best of it.  So today I have parted it the other side and it looks.....not so lesbian trucker like.  I am dressing extra girlie for the next 3 weeks so that I can claw some femininity back.  I need to now decide whether or not to go back to him to get it cut again. 

I’m doing everything I can to keep positive.  Put it into perspective.  I will look back years from now and laugh at it but now I just want to hide away and cry.  Throw a funeral for my hair.  Sigh. 

But I won’t let it get me down.  I’ll wear my dodgy haircut with pride because it is character building.  I Betty Rage survived a dodgy haircut!!!  And if I can survive a dodgy hair cut, I can survive anything!!!

Until next time Ragers and Ragettes, keep your heads and standards high and your heels even higher!!

Lots of love


The Fabulous Betty Rage xxxxxx

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