My hair has been growing like a weed. It got really really long, so long that I couldn't even put it up in a ponytail or flip it into the casual bun I wear most often. I HAD to get a haircut. For over a year, I've been going to a friend of mine who recently graduated from beauty school. She's done a great job and costs very little, but she was out of town when I had my "I have to have my hair cut RIGHT NOW" meltdown. I couldn't wait for her return, even though pangs of guilt told me that I should.
At Tony's encouragement, I made an appointment with the most expensive salon in town ("Treat yourself," he said). They use Aveda products, which feel and smell so great. Everyone in there is stylish and edgy. I knew I was going to have a great cut.
When I sat down in the chair, I told the hairdresser what I wanted: about 4 inches chopped off so my hair hung to my shoulders. I pointed exactly where I wanted it, not the upper shoulder, but the lower shoulder. Then I said I'd like a little shaping around my face. No problem. I got my hair shampooed and rinsed with herbal Aveda products and was feeling wonderfully refreshed when I sat back down, ready for the perfect cut.
I ended up with a basic bob. It's up near my chin and straight across. No shaping at all and it doesn't even approach my shoulders. "What a cute summer cut!" the hairdresser chirped as she finished blowdrying and tossling my newly short hair. I was speechless. There was nothing I could say at that point that would give me the cut I'd wanted. I just paid (way too much for a cut I didn't want) and left, avoiding the receptionist's attempt to book me again in 8 weeks.
From now on, I'm sticking with my friend. She might not use fancy products or look particularly stylish, and she doesn't have extra plush towels or even natural lighting, but she listens and gives me exactly what I ask for.