NOTABLE HAIRDRESSING DISASTERS

 

There was one spring in the '80s when I endeavored to stay indoors for six weeks.  When forced to venture outside,  I wore a capacious hat-the kind worn by the spies in Mad Magazine's "Spy vs Spy."   The reason is already clear to most women reading this:  I was in mourning for my recently-sacrificed hair. 

 

Had someone attacked me and shorn my curly auburn locks?   Had I suffered chemotherapy?  The answers are "no" and "thank you, God, no," respectively.   Not hardly.   I had PAID buco-bucks, muy dinero, lots of sheckles to have someone visit upon my unsuspecting pate the worst haircut known to the annals of Midwestern hair cutting history.  My "Miguel" was a specimen of the worst of the species.  I merely sought out a famous hair butcher and opened my purse, saying "do anything you wish to me and take as much money as you want."

 

And the worst part of this tragedy is that I would have had only to wait ten years or so and my own natural hair would be in style.   Of course, some slight "tweaking," some tiny change, would have still been necessary to necessitate paying something.  One couldn't just go around letting one's own birth hair wave in the wind.   So I got whatever style was in for the "It-Girl" that season-as I recall, it was asymmetrical, which, had I cut it myself, would have been called "cut crooked."  And naturally, it was way too short.  It is a little appreciated fact that hairdressers,  like people who train dogs and skinny cooks, actually despise their subject matter.  Just take a peek at the floor around hairdressers' stations if you don't believe me.  See?  Covered with hanks of perfectly good hair.

 

Though I never revisited Miguel, not even to plant a bomb under his chair, only the name changes-be it Tammi (with an "I" and sometimes a star or a heart to dot it) or Fiona-each stylist (only sixty-year-old ladies have a right to call them beauticians) starts off by reducing the patient-client to a basic humiliated cowering mass.  Some lines guaranteed to take you down to ground zero include:  "who CUT this last?  Did YOU cut your own hair?  Oh my, what PRODUCTS are you using on this?"  As if Prell and Lux Liquid aren't good enough any more.   Then they yank away-without benefit of novacaine for the pitiful hair holder.  Balls of half-grey darning floss are flung into space. 

 

Then they get you in the shampoo chair, boiling and freezing your scalp and simultaneously removing a back molar if needed-anything for a better jaw line. Then, they twirl you and ask a question for the form of it all.  When you answer, as I always do, "I really want a half-inch off is all,"  they sniff or snort and roll their eyes-and immediately take a 2" by 2"-inch swatch out of the middle top-so that there's nothing for it but to cut the rest of your mop to match.

 

When I told him I was going to write this story, a friend, male in gender, said "there's no haircut so bad that three days won't cure it." Perhaps.  If you happen to use Miracle Gro as a pomade.  Or if you happen to be male in gender.  For the rest of us, three months just begins to ameliorate the damages.  And permanents?  And coloring?  Do not get me started‚Ķ.Suffice to say that a friend and I are still hard at work on a sure-fire bestseller:  "Surviving the Coming Bad Perm."  I wore khaki-colored hair long before it was punk to do so-I ironed my hair into a straight isosceles triangle-I slept (fitfully) with my tresses wrapped and pinned around #5 Orange Juice cans-all this in pursuit of Mary Travers when I was born a Gilda Radner.  I wore the first White Afro in my college town-the result of hours of crisscrossed bobby pins every time I had to wash it.  As recently as last year,  I had extensions built into my hair-and came out with a braided and stacked coif that had everything but flying buttresses.  Now I know why horses sleep standing up-it's the weight of that mane.  Also,  I could have had an extension built on to my house for less than I paid for somebody else's hair twisted into mine.   For a brief time in the sixties,  I wore a shiny acrylic "fall" -wore it day and night-until my sisters convinced me at 4' 7"  with 2' "hair" (I'm using unseen air quotes here)  I resembled nothing so much as I did a troll doll.

 

And for this brand of larceny,  I'm told I must pay upwards of $27.00 for the cut alone  ($50.00 in New York last summer) and everything else, including the stylists' and colorists' and permists' fees-is extra.  I can tell you exactly the answer to that ageless question:"what price beauty?" Just let me add up these credit card receipts!!

 

            - by Norma Gay Prewett (aka Gay Davidson-Zielske)

 

This is Norma Gay Prewett,  who will reenter the outside world in about three months.

 

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