Wednesday, November 14, 2007

I'm sorry, I cheated.

Dear Hairdresser,

Would you prefer to be called stylist? I'm just not sure anymore. My confidence in you has gone. We had such a beautiful relationship. It was good while it lasted and then things just went horribly wrong. I'm not sure what happened still but your inability to listen forced me into the arms of another.

I hated to do it. I'm not one for betrayal. I really did think you had mad skillz in everything hair. The subtle way you wound highlights into my hair each autumn with the lowlights was completely stunning. Your service impeccable. You spoiled me. Your clean, vibrant, non-chemical smelling salon turned me rotten for everyone else. So did the cookies and chocolates on trays and all the other small touches I became used to when in your presence. I even, sigh, let you hug me when I arrived and left. I don't even have family that I hug that much. I feel so used.

Why did I betray you? Quite simply your lack of listening and communication was what did it. I yearned to be heard and not to be so blond even in the summer time. I looked washed out in photos and wanted something more natural even if I had to get my hair processed to achieve it. You did it once. Then you re-blonded me again despite my wishes. My whole head and not just the roots. You never just do a touch up or trim. You snip here, then snip there until my screams and cries fall on deaf ears and it is too late. The right side is done. Now you have to do the left. Don't get me wrong. No one can layer and blend like you. No one. BUT WHEN I SAY NO LAYERS I MEAN NO LAYERS! Remember that one time? You know you made me mad when I whirled out of there so fast breathing like a beast waiting to fight. I couldn't even look at you I was so angry. You sent me a gift card for $50 and letter of apology. It made me come back. I gave you another chance. And another and another. Then after that last cut with the BAZILLION nicely blended but KATRILLION layers in my baby fine hair I decided we must part ways. It was simply too much.

I've started seeing someone else. I just thought you should know. She's not you. She gave me the exact cut I wanted and I'm thrilled it's just not as fine a cut as you would have done had you listened. She makes me wait which you never did. I think of you while I'm waiting. This has not been easy on me. There was no lemon water and other stylists sullenly sat around this new salon. You would have never tolerated that. This new place. This new girl. They let hair sit on the floor. You truly did spoil me and I loved it. Every second. But, she listens. My hair? It's the color I asked for. The cut? It's exactly like the photo. Remember when you used to do that? When you used to listen?

I can feel myself caving though. That next time I will go back to you. I will surrender and go back into your softly lit salon. I will repent. I will make up a pack of lies about having my hair done while I was on vacation. I just can't bare for you to know I cheated on purpose. I'm a sucker for a very fine cut. I can't help it. It just grows up better. That's one thing beauty mags don't lie about. A good cut grows out for months looking well, good. Promise me when I come back you will try to listen? I want this to work so badly. Really I do. I miss my expertly cut perfectly thick side bangs bad.


The Client

A new review is up on Mummy's Product Reviews. Beauty Confidential, the new book by Nadine Haobsh formerly Jolie NYC. Nadine, a former beauty editor at some famous beauty mags herself, spills all the secrets in this funny, tell-all book. It's loads of fun and it teaches you how to do the perfect blow out.


  1. Don't be too hard on yourself. It happens :-)

  2. lol - can u write my stylist? :)

  3. If only you could write to my stylist as well. She was the first one that I didn't mind chatting with, and now I feel horribly guilty that I've moved on-- It's like you're breaking up with a friend.


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