- 8 years ago
- Wedding: March 2010
So, my Maid/Matron of Honor and I went for our hair trial today. My hair is going to be mad at me for months. Which is a shame, since I have only two to spare until the wedding, when I’ll put her through it all over again.
I should preface this by saying that I almost never step foot into a hair salon. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I went. I have naturally curly hair and my mom cut my hair for the first 22 years of my life. After that, I cut it myself, since curly hair is very forgiving and the few times I did go to a salon I found that most stylists (“most” meaning “the two that I entrusted the task with”) didn’t know how to cut curly hair. So, Daisy already had one strike against her.
I had found some images online that I really liked. Like this one. And this one. And this one. And this one. Did I remember to bring any of these pictures with me? Nope. Nunt-uh. All I had to go by was my memory and what I saw in the salon’s “updo books.”
As you can see by the links, what I’m really looking for is something along the lines of a “messy updo.” I want to look like I just rolled out of bed. I tried to explain this to Daisy and whenever we came across a picture that I liked, she said, “I think that’s too messy for your wedding.” That should have been the first red flag. But, I’m used to people looking at me like I have three heads, so I just shrugged it off and figured she’d listen to me. I found a style that I liked and I told Daisy that I trusted her (“trusted her” meaning “I’m only here because I think it’s what I’m supposed to be doing”) and that she could play around and help me to decide. The bottom line: nothing too polished, nothing too crunchy, nothing too prom-ish. Messy. You get the drift.
Well. Not only did Daisy not want to have anything to do with my natural curls… she insisted on setting my hair in curlers. Velcro curlers. Velcro curlers that hurt. Ouch. I don’t think I would be utterly against curlers, but the problem here is that she sprayed some stuff on each strand of hair, then combed it through, THEN set the curl. I figured it was some kind of hair spray (which I haven’t used since I was in high school, and that was the very early 1990s).
So, Daisy sets my hair and puts me under the hair dryer. When I emerge from under my “hot hat” and Daisy took out the first curler, I knew I was in trouble. But, I stayed positive and hopeful. She styled my hair and I helped her along the way. She didn’t really get it exactly right, so I told her what I liked and what I didn’t like and she made the adjustments.
When I came home, my fiance told me that while it looked lovely, it’s pretty much what I do with my hair on a daily basis (of course, it doesn’t take nearly as much product or nearly as much time…).
But the real fun began when I started to take the 17 bobby pins out of my curls. My hair didn’t move. I went and stood in the shower for, oh, I don’t know, 30 minutes under hot water. I shampooed, shampooed, conditionered, shampooed some more. Rinse, rinse, rinse, scrub, scrub, scrub. Just before I would have fainted from the heat and steam, I got out and I could still smell the junk she’d put in my hair. I swear it must have been epoxy. I went to the gym to beat out some Daisy frustration, had dinner with my fiance, then showered again. Scrub, scrub, scrub some more, vinegar rinse, etc. Finally I’m beginning to feel human again, but my hair is very unhappy and very resentful toward me.
And really, I can’t blame her. She’s been through a lot today.
I may call Daisy during the week. Unless it’s rainy and humid on my wedding day, I’m going to have to tell her NO MORE PRODUCT. And don’t be so tidy with my hair. I want the messy look.
Thanks for listening. I feel better. And if anyone has any tips on getting goo out of your hair, let me know.