When it comes to my hairdo my thoughts are quite complicated. Or should I just say that I’m rather whimsical. On basically everything, but let’s just focus on one thing at the time… My hairdo. One day I want it short and dark brownish, the other day I want my hair in a Goldilocks kinda way. In this light it’s easily to imagine my thousands kind of hairdo’s throughout the years. I’ve had a short bob, braids, extensions, a long blond coupe, bangs, a very dark brown phase (and again: NO. I DIDN’T DYE IT BLACK. IT WAS DARK BROWN THAT ALMOST SEEMED BLACK. THERE’S A DIFFERENCE!), and I could go one for a while.
As whimsical as I am with the hair, I’m just the same when it comes to my hairdresser. For a while I had a really nice spot near my place (which was extremely useful, while I spent practically a day a month in the hairdresser’s chair). But, like all kinds of make-me-as-pretty-as-possible-expenses, it turned out that my bank account wasn’t exactly handling it well. After some inquiry sweet former colleague N. was so kind to refer me to her personal hairdresser & friend Z. She did the hairdressing as a hobby at home and was really cheap. And, more importantly, she did a hell of a job! But drama was about to set in… After three great haircuts (and triple as much compliments, ‘wow, who did your hair? It’s amazing!’), Z. was heading to Argentina for a year! Ouch, could I hide in her bag? Rip her plane ticket into pieces!? Of course I couldn’t, I just had to deal with it. Luckily I just moved into a new neighbourhood, with a very hip hair salon just across the street. Was this destiny?
Well, I don’t exactly know how to put this in an elegant way… Never ever am I going to set a foot in that hair salon again!!! Hell no! I don’t know what it is with me and this kind of make-me-pretty-services (see my other blog ‘Pedicure virgin’), but it feels like I’m cursed. First time I just entered the salon to get my bangs cut, they managed to sort of offend me within 10 seconds. How? I was told that my hair was way too clean! Excuse me?! Did I hear this right? Oh yes, I was. I shouldn’t wash my precious locks that often. It was just too damn clean. Hmm, at that point some alarm bells should have started to ring. But no, I went back to this particular salon. Twice. And both of the times I was cut by a girl who was hitting on me! I’m telling you; she was flirting, nonstop. And worse.
You probably want some sleazy examples. It started out pretty innocent. She asked me all kind of questions, like ‘haven’t I seen you somewhere before? Don’t you have a twin sister? Tell me something about your love life, are you seeing someone at the moment?’. Well, that’s just hair dresser talk. Little did I know. Next thing she was complimenting me on my ‘gorgeous blue eyes’, ‘sweet, amazingly funny ears’ (off the record; my ear s are my weak spot, I think I’m a far relative of Dumbo, but don’t tell anyone) and my ‘very, sexy hipster’ (which was peeking out of my jeans and she just had to pull it out even more!). Oh no, she didn’t!? Oh yes, she did! Was this sexual harassment? After cutting my bangs, without the barber cape on, she volunteered without questioning to fish out the loose locks between my boobs. Why on earth was I wearing that low cut top? But that was the limit. The remarks about her not wanting a lollipop a colleague of hers offered, because she preferred licking something else (!) wasn’t very funny but something I could deal with. But this grabbing and groping by a female hairdresser was simply a nightmare. Could someone pinch me to wake up!?
I left the hair salon in a hurry; you can imagine I’m never going back there. But I need your help. I want to dye my hair platinum blonde. You guys have any recommendations of a sweet, friendly, non-grabbing & groping hairdresser?
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