Really, there is. I wasn't going to agree to pictures, because I wasn't entirely certain this could be fixed. So I rounded up all the baseball caps we own and contemplated asking Aunt B to sent me a really big, really gaudy sombrero from Juarez. I'm set for Spring!
As of right now, however, I have an appointment with a lady in the salon (actually, a different salon, but the same company - every time I called the first salon, HairGuy answered, and I panicked. I know, I'm a wuss. I accept that about myself.) This lady is supposed to be excellent with "color correction" (which is, I take it, a specific field within the hair-realm). So I'll see if I can get John to take some before and after shots. You're a sick bunch, you know that? ;-)
I do think, though, that after this incident I'm just going to let the wrinkles and the naturally bad hair come and ensconce me and call it good. Perhaps I can learn how to pack mules and hire out as a camp guide. Or I could tend the saloon in a re-enactment camp. There's always a use for our natural talents, if we'll just look for one.
Zorak suggested I go ahead and show you now, with this photo. (It's okay, I laughed, too. Then I choked on my coffee. I would have said it's more like this. But then I'd be lying. It's worse.)
And for the record, I'm just having a little fun with it. Yes, even my previous post was written with a grin. There is nothing that can be done to my head that will send me into tears or convince me the world is going to end. It's hair. It'll grow. Granted, a bad haircut grows only mildly slower than dying grass, but it'll grow. And if I'm going to stick with keeping it real, *whispers* this isn't the worst dye job I've ever had. Let me fill you in a bit...
1990: Henna. Yeah, bulk bin, mix-it-yourself, do-it-yourself Henna from the health food store. Did you know you *can* dye your hair calico? And your eyebrows, if you use the same mixture. And, did you know Henna doesn't come out without hardcore chemical warfare? It's true.
1993: my first experience with "cellophanes". In one fell swoop, my stylist chopped my then-golden (naturally golden, at that point) locks from waist length to a chin-length bob and turned what was left into something resembling an oil slick in a wet parking lot. It was a variegated eggplant, with hints of orange and purpley, and very, very shiny. It clashed horribly with my favorite fleece pullover (which had more red tones). I remember sitting at supper one evening with a gentleman friend who couldn't help but comment on the freaky irridescent halo cast by the romantic lights bouncing off the refractory of my head. He also bought me a different jacket to wear until the stuff wore off. Which, it never did. I looked like this for nearly a year. Evidently, my hair is terribly porous.
1996: I had red hair. Beautiful, Maureen O'Hara-style red hair. OH, how I loved it. Oh, how delightfully Irish and whimsical I felt. I loved having red hair. Until I picked up a different brand for a touch up. (It was on sale, and it looked the same on the box.) Turns out, different brands do not always get along. I spent the end of '96 and the first four months of '97 with what we affectionately refer to as "Biker Bitch Burgundy" hair. Lovely. And, wouldn't ya know it, that's the color it was in the last photograph taken of Mom and her four children before my sister passed away. So, yeah, there are 10x13 photos of this particular look hanging on several walls across the country. Nice, huh?
Spread out here and there are the inevitably bad hair cuts. The blunt cut Sphinx head. The Amazing Water Buffalo. The "so, were you mad at me" cut. The list goes on.
But amidst all that, I've managed to hold down jobs, pay for food and beer, expand my education, maintain absolutely fantastic friends (who all have a superb grasp on the absurd), find a delightful man (during one of my more normal phases, anyway - I don't know that he'd have come back to ask me to dance during the Irridescent Eggplant phase), and have children who love me enough to be honest with me when I make bad decisions. (Come to think of it, I can't believe not one of them shouted, "Bad Idea Fairy" when I walked in the door. Huh. I'd have thought that would be the most appropriate response, to be honest.)
Don't let a bad design presentation get ya down. Ever. It's not worth it.
6 comments:
Oh. My. Word. ROFLMAO. You should create the bad hair meme. I'm glad I'm not the only one that knows that hair is a forgiving medium.
Just be glad that I did not do your hair...I tried to "help" friend bleach her roots once and her hair was so horribly burned...she looked as if she had mange (she should have known it was going to be bad from all my uncontrollable nervous giggling)! I never messed with anyone's hair again after that, except for my own...which as bad enough!
mere
I hope your fix-it lady is good! Your pictures made me laugh, and also your house full of way-too-honest fellows. It is just hair, but when you pay a professional, you are supposed to get things done right. I messed my hair up a few times with do-it-yourself dye jobs and eventually decided my streaks of gray looked better than the too-dark or too-red results I was getting.
LOL! You have a way with the word picture, my dear. BWAHAHA! And you know, it's not just boys. My sisters and my best friend are the only ones who will say, "OMG! Get that off, QUICK, before someone sees you!" (Still hard to take, but I always listen to them.)
Melissa, *sigh* I need sisters like that. But, since I didn't get any keepers, and y'all live too far away to come laugh w/ me in person, God gave me Zorak and the boys. They still make me smile. :-)
Melora, what's funny is that I don't mind if I mess it up myself. Then I'm out, what $8 and the cost of a winecooler? Maybe a little pride? (But that's cheap enough.) What galls me is that I could have bought the colorant myself, some grapefruit soda (what w/ being pg and all, the winecooler wouldn't be a good idea), and still had money leftover to get free shipping on orders from Yesterday's Classics AND Dover. *sigh* All without leaving my home after I messed it up! :-D
Melora, I'm laughing, here. There are several great memories of fixing friends' hair. Or, of doing things to it. The calico hair dye? Did it on a friend, too. We laughed until we were sick. Thankfully, as you put it, it's a very forgiving medium. :-)
Dy
Oh man, these two hair posts have been hysterical. I'm so glad you can laugh at all of this and you can share it with us so that we can laugh with you too. (*with*, really - not *at* - I promise! *grin*) That's quite a trip down the bad hair lane.
This reminds me of the one time I did try to dye my hair. I was in college and my friend and I decided late one night to try and dye our hair red (of course!). Thankfully my hair was dark enough that I just ended up with some kind of decent red highlights... but my friend's dark blonde hair was, um, interesting. We laughed and laughed and laughed, and thankfully the pink-ish green-ish cast only lasted a little over a month. And hey, we did it about two weeks before Halloween too, so it all worked out well in the end.
Good luck getting it fixed! :-)
Wow. This is why I always think about coloring my hair but never do and why I never stray too far from one basic cut. Now I see I'm doing the right thing:o)
I hope you all are safe after the weather last night. (We got rain, then snow.) And I hope you get a good stylist who knows what she's/he's doing. Oh, and please, please post pictures of some of these you mentioned! I'm glad you can laugh about it. I think I have a WTM post of yours saved--something about where beauty really comes from--if you need it:o)
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