In my entire adult life I've only had one person who cut perfect hair. PERFECT. He'd spend almost 2 hours on my bob, making sure every. single. hair. was exactly what it should be. Not only that, he lived in my building so I could (and did) get my hair cut at 11 at night, or after a chance meeting in the elevator. Apparently he had been eying me for awhile. The first time I sat down in his chair, in front of a 12 foot high antique mirror propped against the wall, he told me that I looked like a mushroom and he was relieved when I finally asked him to intervene.
He moved several years ago and I've been less than happy ever since. My current guy is good. Not great. One side always has several strands that are way too long. I have to snip them off when I get home. And my hair is just too full—he doesn't thin out the way I need. It's fine. Passable. But I miss brilliant.
1 comment:
Hi, I'm visiting from SheWrites. First, I think this may be the best blog name ever. I had my first pedicure when I turned 40 and it CHANGED MY LIFE. I could use a spiritual pedicure.
I've had serious hair issues all my life. Until very recently, it was my best feature and always got oohs and aahhs, even though I've always been very critical of it. Now I'm getting old(er). And a little grey. And a little dry and frizzy. You might enjoy this "hair" post on my blog, even though it's an old one (one of my very first, in fact: Just Hair? I Think Not
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