It's hot. Way too freaking hot. It's only going to get even hotter. There's only one thing to do. Cut my hair!!!
Here's one last look at me with my tresses. Say good-bye. Good-bye split ends. Good-bye ponytail-induced migraines. Good-bye drains clogged with Medusa orphaned tresses. Good-bye geisha-concubine-teahouse hostess fantasies.
I was getting pretty good at doing the sexy girl hair flick thing. I can do it now without giving myself whiplash. Oh well, time to learn a new trick. I ought to work on my tying a cherry stem into a square knot with my tongue trick next.
But it's about time I hacked off the locks and sent them off to hair heaven to be made into a wig.
I'm sending my locks off to Wigs for Kids.
I love that tunic top. It's so breezy. I tied a cotton obi around it to give it bit more shape and paired it up with a pair of black linen pants. I have a theory that if you show up to the salon looking spiffy, you'll get a better haircut. So far, it hasn't failed me yet.
Here's a picture of the hair that got hacked off:
Kevin at the Cutting Room in Nanaimo did the honors. He was awesome. A surfing, rock-climbing cutie of a hairdresser. And Freaking hilarious to boot.
I arrived a bit early to my appointment so I could look through the style books. I had a few ideas in mind but nothing I was completely committed too other than I wanted it short.
There are some really ugly hairstyles in those style books. Butt-freaking ugly hair. Like you'd be better off letting your kid brother do your hair for you sort of hair. (Or your older sis, right Pat?) . But then again, at least they're creative. That's a notch better than some of the mundane, hactchet jobs I see wandering through the malls. Lay off the bleach ladies. You're not fooling anyone. While you're at it, give the flat iron the morning off too.
In my hair odyssey, I decided to best way to find a great stylist was to ask women who had great looking hairstyles where they got their hair done. Not just well-cut hair but hair that suited them, hair that moved well and didn't look 'done'. My little survey made me realize that there isn't very much good hair in this town. There some great boob jobs (and lots of mediocre ones to match their hair) but not much in the way of great hair. Of the women that I asked, several had got their hair done at the Cutting Room. A few got their hair done at Kiyo's, which is run by a former Cutting Room stylist.So that's how I ended up in Kevin's chair at the Cutting Room talking about surfing, climbing and drag queens. And once all the hair stopped flying, this is what was left:
I'm free! So cool, so light!
I'm loving the new 'do. It's wash 'n go. A little bit of wax and I'm out of here.
To celebrate, I'm making Mojitos and watching the ferry mayhem from my patio.