Bad hair days are the pits. Worse than that! They are just awful and nothing will so instantly put anyone [ok, ok, your average, style conscious girl!] in a bad mood as quickly as looking in the mirror first thing and realising that It’s A Bad Hair Day. I’d been having a bad fortnight and it really wasn’t pretty.
You know when you realise that you haven’t had your hair cut for a while? Even if you religiously get it cut on the dot of 8 weeks, there comes a time when it just becomes ‘meh’. And so you ignore this for a bit, say to your self that you’ll make time for an appointment maybe next week, sure the week after would do at a push. Then you can’t get an appointment that suits and then you realise that you’ll be totally broke cos you dont’ get paid til the following week. So you just say to yourself that that’ll have to do and resign yourself to having to make a bit more of an effort each day until then while ensuring you have a hat stuffed into your bag at all times.
And then you need to get your hair cut but if you get it cut today or tomorrow, it’ll be too long before the big evint that you’re going to and because you don’t want it to be even near straggly by then you decide to hold out for another week or two.
And then there’s the situation I found myself in – a dreaded combination of both. With the added bonus of not really living where my hairdresser is anymore.Complete disaster. And, and I think a lot of you know how hard it is to find a good hairdresser…
I rang my hairdresser. No answer. No answer the third time either. Bet they don’t work Mondays. 9.05am Tues – ‘Hi, can I speak to GK? This is your hairdresser, you rang yesterday but we’re not open on Mondays.. how can I help you?’ And so on the conversation went, me getting more annoyed that not only could I not get an appointment for this weekend, but that my hairdresser was on holiday until mid next week. I ended up making an appointment that really didn’t suit.. for like 9 days time.
‘Would ye not just get a hairdresser here or where your parents live, Glitter?’ It’d be much handier for you. Jeez, I hate giving up my Saturday morning to go to the bloody hairdresser’.
‘Yeah, I really should. Sure I’m in McSmile’s at weekends at this stage. And I don’t want to have to schlep back to mine just to schlep around the corner to the hairdresser as well. But I don’t know any hairdressers here or whe… hang on! The place you go to. What’s it like?
‘It’s grand, No, it’s good. It’s been there years and they’ve very good’.
‘Sure fuckit. I might just book an appointment for tomorrow lunchtime or Friday even’.
‘Why don’t you go now? It’s only around the corner. It’s just the two of us in the office. And sure ye don’t need an appointment! Just walk in!’
‘Right. Fuckit. I’ll go now so. How do I get there?’
After the inevitable phone calls that delayed me leaving the office for half an hour, I seized the opportunity to leg it out the door with the distinct probability of coming back with fabulous hair. And after a short walk around the corner, I found my potential new hairdresser.
I was waiting all of 5 minutes, whereby my coat was hung up and there was an apology that I had to wait at all. While my hair was being washed I asked the girl’s name. We had a chat about what I wanted – which was essentially a trim, but I’m a bit particular about my hair and anyone nearby wielding scissors needs to be told of kinks and how my hair generally behaves out of the salon. My hair was cut, there was chat of the haircutting type during, and there was pleasant and not at all annoying smalltalk about non haircutting type things. When my hair was dry I was asked how it looked. I was asked if I wanted a bit more of a graduation at the sides. There was slight tidying up. And that was it! I was done! My hair looked fabulous and I was really pleased! And I was only there for maybe 45 minutes but there was no scrimping, the girl knew what she was doing and well, it only took that long!
I swished my way back to work. I swished my way home and I admired my own now lovely locks in the mirror.
‘Oh! Your hair is gorgeous!’ exclaimed my Mom. ‘It’s really lovely.. oh, that’s a lovely cut! Who did you go to?’
And after I regaled the ins and outs of my determined decision to get my hair cut that day….
‘€40? €40? That’s for nothing! And you normally pay €70 in that other place?!’
Yep. I’m very happy with my new swishy locks.