Last Friday I went to get my hair coloured ready for the wedding next Tuesday. One of the girls from Bill’s work kindly hooked me up with her salon and even drove me out there to have it done.
I went along not really knowing what I wanted to happen, though I fancied a change (but had been warned not to do anything too drastic until after the wedding) and was hoping to have something that wouldn’t show the regrowth so badly. I took along the photo of me in my wedding dress and hoped that maybe the stylist would be able to give me some ideas on what to do, and how to style it for the big day.
When I got there it was a bit strange. I was hoping for a considered chat and options on colour and cut before we went ahead and did anything, but instead the stylist jumped straight to work, began a heavy bleach job and made my head frazzle. She did do a great job of mixing up 6 different bottles of Special Effects hairdye to create a stunning fuschia which we hoped would tone better with my dress than the current pink, however, she just practically redyed the pink hair I already had, and then a bit more to create a more striking wedge of colour at the front. Slightly disappointing as she really did the same as what I would have done myself at home.
Was very taken aback but too polite to blink when after washing my hair the hairdresser asked me to return to my seat and begin drying and combing my hair myself. This was not a cheap salon, thought that was what I was paying her to do. Hmmm.
After the second wash to rinse the purple dye from my hair the stylist looked all concerned and suddenly warned me not to worry but that the dye at the front had rinsed off into the rest of my blonde hair and turned it streaky pink. Normally I guess it would have looked quite cool, but the whole point of the exercise was to get rid of the pink because it clashed horribly with my dress, so having a whole head of this pink hair was not good. Ugh, disaster.
More bleach then got piled onto my head, and my salon experience stretched onwards. My stylist handed me over to another lady to do this bit and I kind of got the feeling I was a bit of a nuisance.
Pinkness subdued (but not gone completely) eventually it came to cutting my hair and the girl wanted to know how I wanted it cut. I didn’t really know, other than that I was hoping for a change. As I don’t really pay much attention to hair styles and terms and rarely visit a salon so I had no idea what to ask for. Besides, I kind of thought maybe that should have been addressed before she dyed my hair in a particular way?
Anyway, I said I was hoping she might give me some ideas. Her response? “Well, I don’t know. I don’t know you.”
Okay. End of that then.
Had a trim, same as I usually do.
Also ended up making another appointment with them on Monday afternoon so that they can sort out the rest of the pink and freshen it up for the next day. This is so not good. I have no idea if this will be included in the cost of the cut or whether I’ll be forking out even more money for this bleach cap. I’m supposed to be up in Alpharetta by then too. Aaargh! Not good. Not good. Bit panicked about that now.
Dammit, why do hairdressers always make me feel so awkward, nervous, naive and stupid? I had been so hoping that this would be a treat to myself for the big day too.
Appointment was stretched out so long I missed Tang Soo Do as well. Rats.
Trish picked me back up and dropped me off at the house. She said she liked my hair very much, but I was so anxious and worried about it I was all unbelieving. Need to see it with my dress on to be reassured now. Where’s Nicky when you need her? Aaargh!
Hate hairdressers I do.