I got my hair cut last week. Since I knew I wasn't going to like a poufy do like some of the Mexican ladies like here, I asked my aunt a long time ago, "How do you say, 'Just a trim' ?" "Las Puntas, solamente". OK, that wasn't hard.
My hair dresser (who shall remain nameless as I really do wish her the best of luck in her business) speaks English. So I told her I hadn't had my hair cut since Dec. 8th, and that I need a trim of about 2 inches. Same long layers, same bangs, the works will stay the same. She said she understood. Our conversation was in English.
As she enthusiastically cut my hair, I began to realize about half way through, that she was giving me the same hair cut that she had given T when she had come in about Feb. While I greatly admired it on T (she has blonde wavy hair, I have dark brown semi-curley hair), I did not want it. Oy, this was going to be a problem-O.
She started to use a blow drier on it before she finished cutting it. Huh? Ooookaaaay. What was happening to my head. Having cut it extremely short once
(to the point of baldness & freaking out my then boyfriend) I knew that bad hair cuts grow out, so I just observed dispassionately, maybe even bemusedly, in the mirror while she wrestled with my hair (which obviously did NOT want to do what she wanted it to do). She cut, she blew dried it, she cut some more. I even thought to myself at one point, what would happen if I just told her to stop and I got up and walked away? Would it be any worse than what she was trying for? Curious to see what she was aiming for, I let it proceed. And proceed. And proceed.
It finally got to the point where I thought I would scream "STOP for heaven's sake!" when she finally. just. stopped. I had what I can only describe as a much older woman's poufy hair helmut on my head. I thanked her, paid her, tipped her and got out of there as fast as I could. ack. No pictures were taken as I did not need to be reminded of what my hair, with lots of hair product in it and lots of hair drying with lots of painful pulling on it, could look like.
I washed it the next day and was rewarded with such curley hair that you would think that I had gotten a perm (which is saying a lot). With all the wind that we have had, I ended up looking like a poodle with a over-grown puppy cut (look it up if you like).
All I can say is thank goodness for hair clips that are cute and the fact that my husband doesn't seem to bothered by what I look like. Or my kids. Or most of my boating friends who A) know that you can't have a fussy hair cut on a boat, B) since we all need wind to sail, your hair is in the wind all the time and a fussy hair cut just gets the hair in your eyes with the wind and C) knows that an abundance of hair product makes your hair dirtier faster and not fun to have to deal with when your boat does not have a shower in it (thank you, marinas for having really hot and high pressure showers!).
I have now learned my lesson- while cruising, the least fussy hair cut is the straight trim along the bottom-grow your hair out
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2 comments:
Hola Toni! The crew of Del Viento want a picture. How can you write an hilarious account like that and not finish it off with a picture? Killing us! Hope you are all well and get the engine back aboard and running soon. At least next year you will not have to worry about rigging or engine stuff. Best wishes, Michael and family (Eleanor says hello to Teresa)
I never had a really bad cut in Mexico. But the dog did. We, similarly, asked for just a trim. We were, after all, heading to New Hampshire for Christmas. It was going to be cold and the dog needed her hair. We honestly did not recognize her when we picked her up. She had been scalped -- yep, down to the skin -- and bows glued to her ears. And they had drugged her. For two days, she sat in the corner of the settee with her face pressed into the cushions. She knew she looked bad . . .
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