Language of the hairdresser
I'm super happy, I managed to make an appointment at the hairdresser. It's my turn next week. My hair isn't in the worst state, but sitting at home during the quarantine made me look as if I’ve been homeless for years. So I'm really looking forward to this haircut.
I always find going to the hairdresser a little uncomfortable. Many hairdressers are social animals and can’t stop chatting, while they are busy using the hair dryer. Because of the noise of the hair dryer in combination with the hot air in my ear, I just can never understand anything they say. My tactics? I’ll just put up a nice understanding smile and hope for the best, while sometimes saying things like “that’s nice” over the noise of the hair dryer. One time that went horribly wrong when the hairdresser told me I had to leave a little earlier, because she had to put down her cat. So now I don't react and try to avoid eye contact in the mirror.
What I also find very difficult is to understand the language of the hairdressers and that is pretty important, because if you suddenly walk out of the shop with; "classic bangs with some tufts at the back and a nonchalant back combing " that sounds very much on trend so that’s good, but you actually look like Dora the Explorer with a sleeping crown.
Last year I wanted some high lights in my hair, just some light tufts like all those pretty tough surf girls have. My hairdresser indicated that high lights are really out of style and that I could better go for a so-called "balayage" or “an "ecaille". I didn't dare to say that I had no idea what that is. At least it sounds expensive and exciting. Of course I don't want to be the quitter, and sometimes you have to dare yourself to relinquish control. So I got a little lost and nervous in the chair and spent three and a half hours there afterwards. I didn't know you could get muscle pain from sitting still. There were two hairdressers busy with foil, trays, tassels, hair clamps, some kind of heat appliances that looked like blenders and at least 80 tubes.
They were working on my hair with such great care that I grabbed my phone and invited all my drinking buddies to get a drink in the city at my expense. I'm not that handy with hair myself so if you have a good "hair day", you want to make the most of it!
The sun had set and I almost became the tough surf girl I so longed for. Just blow-drying and some care products and I'd be ready for the city with a “balayage”. I felt the tension in myself increase and looked hopeful in the mirror where I saw my hair dry slowly.
I saw other customers looking full admiration to back of my new coupe and the hairdressers who had been fumbling on me all day also looked very satisfied. I noticed that certain locks looked very light. I gently asked about it, but I didn't get over the hair dryer. I decided to wait until all my hair was dry. Glad, the hairdresser held a mirror behind my head and shouted: what do you think?
Where I couldn't wait to jump out of the chair three hours ago, I was now stiffened watching my balayage. I don't know why the name of my coupe is called my balayage. It might as well have been a bengal tiger. I didn't look like the tough surf girl, I looked like an unfortunate captive Bengal tiger. Despite my internal panic attack, I managed to walk to the cash register and settle there without a glance or blush. I still had the vain hope that the bright light from the hairdresser was the cause of my jungle look. When my friends were ready for a nice drink and started roaring hard when they saw me arriving on my bike I knew enough.