At least four times per year since the age of 14, I've happily settled into my current stylists' chair for a couple delicious hours of gabbing, relaxation and, of course, hair maintenance. I've never had a single bad coloring experience so, like jury duty, it was only a matter of time before my number was up...
I've been getting my hair done at a particular area salon for the last seven years. In those seven years I've had three wonderful stylists who've taken my hair to various lengths and colors. A couple weeks ago I called up to the salon to book an appointment and was bummed to learn that my current stylist would be out for the rest of the month. Knowing what the root situation would be like if I waited for her to return, I asked the receptionist to recommend a sub. I took her recommendation, made an appointment for a cut and "partial weave" (that means "highlights on the top half of your head"), and didn't think another thing about it.
Last Saturday I sat down into the new girl's chair and made small talk while she started on my hair. Initially I was so wrapped up in the "getting to know you" pleasantries that I wasn't really paying much attention to what she was doing. A few minutes into the appointment, however, I started noticing that her technique seemed to be...well, let's say "different" from what I was used to. The foils seemed to be pretty sparse (like, the whole back of my head was left untouched), and rather than "weaving" the color onto a select few strands, she seemed to be painting it onto whole swatches. Hmmm...
Okay before I continue, please let me state for the record that I have absolutely no beauty school training whatsoever. It took me years to perfect the art of evening-up my husband's sideburns with an electric razor, so really--I have zero technical knowledge of how to "do hair."
If it has always taken at least 45 minutes (but usually an hour or more) to do a partial weave on my hair, and the new girl announces she's done in 27 minutes...there's a problem.
If it has always taken at least 15 minutes (but usually 20 minutes or more) under the dryer before my color is ready to be rinsed out, and the new girl has me hop on over to the sink in 13 minutes...there's a problem.
And if, after 14 years of getting my hair highlighted and never uttering a single complaint about the finished product to any of my stylists, I take one look in the mirror and burst into tears...there's a big freaking problem.
After a somewhat tense conversation with the manager (my blubbering wasn't helping matters, but whatcha gonna do?), I had her book a corrective appointment at another salon and went home to calm down, wash my face, and take pictures of my sad estate and send them to my mom because obviously that's what us girls do.
Hey look! "Fresh color" that magically looks brassy and already shows two months' worth of root growth! Neato!
Ooooo, this part's my favorite! That "super-obvious, colored at home, pull-through cap" look was so what I was going for. And hey look, more roots!
Ah, the pièce de résistance: a nice, rooty blond sideburn right on the side of my head. That'll look awesome every time I wear my hair up! (Bonus points for the super-dramatic tear-stained cheeks.)
Chunky, streaky, rooty gorgeousness right there, y'all!
Okay okay, enough with the dramatics :) And again, we're totally hashtaggin' this one as "firstworldproblems." But still... for a sleep-deprived mom who rarely indulges in anything beauty-related and (the kicker) actually had a date planned with her husband that night, it was pretty upsetting.
In a grand streak of luck, however, the stylist who ended up being in charge of the corrective appointment turned out to be an absolute genius at hair color. After slowly, painstakingly going through every inch of my hair and weaving in subtle color (mostly lowlights, actually--there was already enough bleach on my head to kill a small horse), my *new* favorite stylist managed to send me home 2.5 hours later with gorgeous, natural-looking color and a smile on my face.