I cannot tell a lie (by Miss G.)
Saturday, August 11, 2012 at 9:47PM Mrs. G. Honesty is the cornerstone of a healthy relationship unless, let's be real, it involves "does this make me look fat" questions. ~Miss G.
This is my hmmm, Mom, let's think on it for 2 to 4 years look.
This evening, while watching an episode of Game of Thrones, Mrs. G turned to me and asked a question that gets thrown around about once every 4-6 months in the G house hold. "Should I cut all my hair off? What about just a simple, short cut?"
In previous years I might have humored her, but having gone through this cycle multiple times in the past (ending, 9/10 times, with woe and much wringing of hands) I was forced to be honest and provide her with the two primary reasons why this would be a very Bad Idea.
1. A "simple, short cut" necessitates lots of maintenence to prevent the unwanted "orphan child" look from taking over. Mrs. G does not exactly have a very good track record with hair maintenence, in fact this is essentially the opposite of her usual M.O., which embraces her hair's natural energy by allowing it to reign free and unmolested.
2. When one has (as all G women do - myself included) a head not unlike a bowling ball, it is generally unwise to accentuate that fact by chopping off your distracting hair-cape. This is a mistake we all have made.
Mrs. G, though stung, could not argue with the logic of my argument. So, Derfs, on that note: share stories of your worst hair mistakes.
Family
Reader Comments (55)
Bangs. They're a mistake (for me) every single time. My Adventures With Bangs are usually hormone-induced and often are followed with excessive ice cream consumption. And crying. And deep, deep regret.
I've been trying to figure out what to do with my bangs and finally decided they were way too long. So I cut them. And now, they're, um, a little short. Oops! At least it grows back...
Perms. My straight hair is just not meant to be curly.
Any time I think I want to let my hair grow long, I look at photos of myself from several years ago.
The morning of my wedding I went to my sister's hairdresser. My sister is fanatical about her hair so I trusted her judgement. We had flown into Australia a week before and my jetlag had nearly dissipated. My hair was washed, dried and put into a fishtail plait before being put up into a low elegant bun. It was the style my hairdresser and I had agreed and practiced several weeks before in the UK.
As I looked in the mirror this hairdresser creature then proceeded to pull out 'wispy bits'. WISPY BITS! My chest length, dead straight, uber-fine hair does not do wispy bits. I looked at her in horror saying 'No. No wispy bits, wispy bits bad.' At which point she pulled out even more and took a pair of scissors to them. So four hours before my wedding I was given a thin wispy fringe!
high school prom I looked like a reject from Gone with the Wind. It was bad and I was in tears.
There was a women I worked with and she undid and redid my hair.
It was not spectacular but i could deal wit it.
When my daughter looked at the picture of me one day she asked- What's with the hair? My reply- Don't ask.
My mom wouldn't let me get a perm. So during high school I would wet my hair just before bed and braid it, then unbraid it in the morning and create the frizzy kinky bad perm look that was so fashionable during Mr. Reagan's pregnancy.
Then I got a mullet.
Vivianne -- awesome typo! "Mr. Reagan's pregnancy" Ha! Is that a DYAC?
Anyway, In the early 90's I decided to get my hair cut short like Princess Diana's. Unfortunately, I have very curly hair and no talent with hair dryers. I looked like a poodle for several months. I took to wearing hats as much as possible.
Oh! I almost forgot the awful bi-level hair cut I had in high school. I cringe now when I see those pictures. I think at the time I thought I looked ok.
Shortly after my son was born, I thought it would be "practical"to go very short. And at the time, perhaps influenced by some dark, post-partum hormonal imbalance, I also thought it would be fun to try a new color. Black. So I did. I looked awful. Cried and cried. Even my son cried when he saw me. He kept looking at me with scared eyes, like whatthehelldidyoudowithmymommy? The cut was horrible on me. The color was a BIIIIIIGGGG mistake. The experience scared/scarred me from ever doing something like that again. I still think about it, 18 years later, when I get some crazy idea like "maybe I should try short again." My husband concurs. I stick to my justlongenougforaponytail look (for swimming). With some summer highlights that make me *look* like I was at the beach, without ever having to show my thighs.
every perm from about 1980 until oh, probably 1988. That's when I just gave up, thank goodness.
I decided to use a 2 year old home coloring kit to color my mousy used -to-be blond hair aurburn. The solution in the big squeezy bottle had thickened, apparently. So when I finished applying it all over my head, I realized that it had not mixed thoroughly. The result was a Strawberry Shortcake doll tribute in some patches with my original mouse color in others. My hairdresser gasped and covered her mouth when she saw me. "It really IS that bad," she whispered. It took 3 hours in my hairdresser's chair to get my hair to a color naturally found on a human head and 6 months and a very short hair cut to grow it all out.
My mother was a great believer in the "short hair is practical for girls" maxim. One day, when I was seven, she actually scheduled a hair cut for me in the middle of a school day. This generated some comment among my classmates as I was released for an early dismissal. You can imagine their reaction when I was returned to class an hour later looking like a boy. WTF, mom?
All through high school, I was a "Sun-In" orangey/blonde. Yeah. that was great. Then I went away to college and discovered that other girls did NOT look like that. So when I came home for a weekend, I went to the bargain basement hair salon near my house and asked them to return me to my ash blonde original color.
It turned grey, with black ends. They tried to tell me that having "lowlights" was popular.
I went home, cried, washed my hair eleventytwo times, and then smeared it all back into a tight ponytail. Finally, my mom took pity on me and took me to her stylist who gasped, then just chopped off the black ends. Then I spent a large part of the afternoon getting "clarifying conditioning treatments." I walked out with brownish hair, and decided that was much better than grey on a 19 year old girl.
Funny you ask...Yesterday just for something different, I rolled my baby fine, long, straight (thin) hair, hoping to add some body to my otherwise flat hair, (for my brothers wedding)...Luckily for me, I decided to take them out while I was sitting in the driveway waiting for my McGiver to put the dog out, make sure we knew where we were going...etc. a half hour later, I was still trying, without much luck, to get the first one out! You can appreciate this part, I live N. of Marysville, and the wedding was in Olympia, (yes, I also have webbed feet)! I got the last roller out of my hair just before we left the freeway in Olympia,(for those of you who do not live in WA, that was aprox. two hours later)needless to say, never buy velcro looking rollers at the thriftstore...(stop laughing). I'm positive they're really some type of Chinese torture devise. The worst part, my already thin hair, lost an unnatural amount as I carefully, NOT, tried everything to get them out. On the bright side, I didn't have to walk into the wedding with an odd roller here and there with hair that looked like I'd stuck my finger in a light socket!!!
When I was fourteen my eight year older sister and I cut my hair short with nail scissors. It was cute when we did it but when it grew out I started looking like a sheepdog. My mother was furious with both of us and made me get a perm for said sister's wedding in the fall. I looked like a demented poodle and did not cut my hair for ten years. Now I pay for a good short cut three or four times a year.
Freshman year of highschool. Thought I needed a bob. Stylist said that if I brushed it a certain way it would naturally roll under. Liar, liar, pant on fire. I have ridonkulously thick hair, the kind that if left alone after a shower could take five hours to dry. Instead of nicely rolling under it simply fluffed up, finally freed of the weight of waist length hair. Like a giant pyramid.
Whenever my current stylist cuts my hair she divides into six sections and comments that some women only have as much hair as one of these sections. Don't get me wrong, it's a nice problem to have, but it is difficult to style, does not do up-dos due to sheer weight, and take a year and day to blowdry and curl.
I made the bob mistake one more time as an adult, and now know my lesson completely. I need longish hair, a few layers, and a really kick ass blow dryer and curling iron.
Ha! I learned very fairly early on that my straight, fine hair is pretty much hopeless. My mother kept it boy-short when I was a pre-schooler. Then there were a few years of doggie-ears and braids, followed by a failed attempt at bangs. In seventh grade, a shoulder-length cut gone horribly wrong earned me the nickname "Alfalfa." In the eighties I tried to be friends with the curling iron, but when its teeth broke off I never replaced it. Since then I haven't done much besides vary the length - from as long as it will grow (just past my waist) to just long enough to make a pony tail. I've been thinking about coloring my gray, but my natural color is a very dark brown and I'm afraid it will look totally fake if I try to match it at my age.
The Sun-In Incident of 1978 is still spoken of in horror-filled tones in my family. It seemed like such an easy process: paint a few streaks of product on hair, wait 20 minutes, shampoo out and enjoy your new kissed-by-the-sun locks. Except that 1. my mom's idea of a few streaks here or there ended up with her basically coating my entire head with the stuff, and 2. both of us thought the other was watching the time. Some 45 minutes later, we both realized the 20 minutes had long since passed. My brown hair was not sun-kissed but orange. A very unfortunate shade of orange.
I too did the 80's perm throughout Reagan's loooooong pregnancy. Another reason I don't look back fondly on that decade.
Oh dear. Reading this and the comments has dredged up some very unpleasant memories. I've been coloring my hair for so long, that I'm not sure what my natural hair color is. I think it was brown. It's probably got a lot of grey in in now.
I've survived the big hair of the 80s, single-handedly keeping the Aqua-Net company afloat. I subjected my naturally curly hair to spiral perms, regular perms, hot rollers, etc. But none of this hair fuckery tops the the first time I colored my hair red at home. I bought a L'Oreal kit at the drug store, and while it was a pretty intense red, I figured it would be 'ok'. I went through the process and rinsed and it was FAR from 'ok'. My hair was R.E.D. Way past Lucille Ball red. I looked like the love child of Ronald McDonald and Wendy. I sobbed, I washed it and I sobbed some more. Finally, I dragged myself to the nearest salon and 2 hours and $70 later, I looked like a dark auburn vixen.
I've recently been trying to get purple into my hair (I blame Pinterest). Not Jimi Hendrix purple, but maybe just some eggplant-y lowlights or streaks. My sensible stylist talked me down yesterday and gave me a deep mahogany color with some red/purple-ish highlights. I may or may not keep experimenting.
Circa 1984, I told the stylist to do whatever he wanted to do. I ended up with one of the 1st asymmetrical haircuts, with the hair on one side of my head about 1/2 an inch long. The only time I ever went home & cried over my hair. Also the only time I told a stylist to do whatever they wanted.
My mistake: about 6th grade. Cut my own bangs. They had a definite and obvious slant. Lesson learned.
A hairdresser's mistake. Went to a guy to get my hair cut when we lived in Dallas. I have a cowlick in the front of my head. That hair will turn under and cannot be forced with anything other than hair cement to go in a backwards direction. I told the guy my hairdresser in VA had cut and styled it so the cowlick went back. His solution? He took a pair of scissors and whacked it off. Did I mention it was at the front of my head? Asswipe. No tip. No return. Lesson learned.
My mother's mistake: Mom had very curly red hair that hung in long ringlets. When visitors came to the house they would often remark, "when you cut your hair I want one of those darling ringlets". So, mom, the ever compliant child complied. Took a pair of scissors and whacked off all the ringlets she could reach. My grandmother was mortified.
when i was 13-going-on-14, my mom took me in for a "body wave," which inevitably turned into "poodle hair" by the time school started in the fall. it was my freshman year of high school.
i refused to trust her hairstylist for almost 10 years after that incident.
In 1977 or so, living in NYC, I saved up my money and made an appointment at a upper East Side stylist often featured in Vogue magazine. I sat in the chair for over one hour as he snip snip snipped infinitestimal little snips off my head, and watched in the mirror, horrified, as every single hair on my head was reduced to a length of half an inch.
My head was fuzzy as a tennis ball and I was poorer by (then a lot of money) $60 by the time I left the salon. Later that week I was crossing a street in lower Manhattan, and a construction worker yelled across the street at me, "Ehhhyy! Joan of Arc!"
The funny thing was, after it had grown out about three weeks, it was one of the best haircuts I'd ever had.
This has dredged up some unpleasant memories for me as well. The summer I begged my mom for a Pixie and cut off my waist length hair: the orange (Sun-In) streaks in high school: the "shag" I got from a barber who could see me right away (instead of waiting for my salon) - ack that was a bad look - Brooks Brothers suits with bow ties and a short shag - fugly! The perm my first husband said made me look like a "poodle". Ever since I have stuck to longish wavy hair.
At 35 I started highlighting and low-lighting. A visit to Kimberly is always at least $300 - and now I'm wondering if I can just find an all-over color close to my natural light brown and spend less money? I'm not ready to go gray - but surely there is a less expensive way to have good color? My hair is SO dry from the blonde high-lights - going darker might be better?
Thanks!
Wedding= poodle head
Childhood= pixie cut
College= hippie long straight
I have such thin fine hair, it just lays there, now I grow it long enough to pull it into a knot. Put it up and ignore it.
Any time you try to defy what your hair is meant to do it doesn't end well. Yes, another victim of the Reagan Pregnancy Poodle Perm.
I do short very well because I have fine, thin hair combined with a great hairdresser to whom I pay $140 every 6 weeks and I do not take sh*t from anyone about that number. I also have a strong commitment to product and styling utensils and "doing: my hair on a daily basis.
I actually look back upon the asymmetrical 80's cut with fondness; I don't do it again because I swear by the adage "If you wore it the first time it was in style, you may not ever wear it again."
Mrs. G.--I thought your hair looked great in your road trip pics, so listen to your very wise girl (you know, the one with the gorgeous head of hair).
Cutting my OWN hair into a shag when I was in my twenties. What was I thinking? I was thinking, "How hard can this be, really?"
The hairdresser I went to to get it repaired asked, "How did you have the nerve to do this?"
Oh, and reading the comments (hilarious!!!) reminded me of the time my mother took me to HER mother's stylist (Thanks a lot-I really had put it out of my memory. Until today.). He worked out of his garage. Klassy. And he cut my hair very short. And put it in old lady curlers. And dried it.
Guess whose hairstyle I went home with? Yes, my grandmother's. And I was 16.
I cried. And I learned that no matter how many times you wash short hair, it doesn't get longer on the spot.
I laughed when I read the "bowling ball" comparison, because that is *exactly* how I describe myself with short hair! Yet I let my mother
harrasstalk me into keeping it very short all through high school...did I mention my mother had stick straight hair, like everyone in my family, and I have wavy, curly hair? Let's just say high school was not a happy time for many, many reasons.(One lesson I did take away from the "too short" years - short hair is NOT any less work than long hair. You do have to commit to having it cut more often to keep the shape, and if you have curls/waves like mine, it can take more time to wrestle them into shape if they're short than long. I finally accepted that hair takes time, and that's just the way it is.)
That straight/curly dichotomy - and the fact that no one in my family knew what to do with curly hair - led to a lot of really awful hair due to cuts that were meant for straight hair. I kept trying to make my hair straight with roller brushes and curling irons, and it won't do it. I don't care how good your "blow out" technique is, my hair will start spiraling again before I leave the salon.
I found a great stylist who knows what to do with curly hair, and even showed me how she was cutting the layers along each curl to work with it. I also grew my hair out to about shoulder length, and the weight helps it behave better. Not to mention there's enough to put it up if I feel like it.
My husband and I have an agreement on hair color: I can have it colored any way I like, as long as it's done professionally. Apparently his sister went through one too many unnatural results for him to trust home color, and frankly, I'd just as soon someone else dealt with it. I have highlights and lowlights, but I so want a purple streak.
Anytime I've cut my hair short - immediate chia pet. Once, for some unknown reason, like my hair didn't have enough body already, I got a perm. Friends would sneak up and pull out pieces and leave them sticking out at crazy angles. The snickering I'd hear let me know.
The worst was my wedding day (the first, bad one - another omen?). I had a good hairdresser, but he spent the whole time telling me about the funeral he was going to for one of his best friends so he couldn't come to my wedding. I did not stop him because I felt so sorry for him, but when he showed me in the mirror, it looked like I had a vagina on my head! There was this bump of hair in the center with curls poofed all around it, forming a slit. I could not say anything. He said, "No charge, my gift to you." I rode to my mom's house, stunned. She told me not to touch it, we'd get someone to fix it. Fix a vagina on my head the day of my wedding? I went in the bathroom and stuck my head in the sink. Mom found me and began yelling. I shouted back, "Hit me! beat me! I'm not gonna have my hair like that!" She went for a drive. For an hour. A friend came and fixed it. Now that I'm with the best man ever, I almost wished I'd left it alone, 'cause good laughs are worth it.
Miss G., your hair looks lovely in your photo. Just ... FYI.
My very worst hair was the 27 years it took to grow out a perm. In junior high. Because I wasn't awkward enough already.
8th grade: I begged for a perm. My moms friend did it in her kitchen. It was poodle like. I cried for hours and my mom helped me brush it out that weeked. Turns out you can brush out a perm.
First perm. 1991. I was 7. It was awful. Who allows their 7 year old to get a perm? My mother. I don't know that I have forgiven my mother, grandmother or great aunt for putting my through that.
7 flipping years old! Dear Lord!
Holy hell broke out the day before my kindergarten picture and continued w/ hair travesties for many years! I decided in my 5 year old brain that I would cut my own hair and gave myself the very nicest, most crooked set of Frankenstein bangs you have ever seen! I cut them in some spots up to the hairline!My poor sweet Mom tried everything she could think of to camoflage them and we had to go for an emergency "Pixilation"! Did any of you ever get a pixie haircut? Might be the bald version of a mullet, never looked good on anyone!
So, off I go to kindergarten in my most favorite black and white taffeta checked dress with the red polka dots and velvet skirt looking like a very silly BOY with a red bow in what is left of my strawberry blond thatch. And that was just the begginning of my I LOve Lucy hair moments!
Middle and high school brought forth the long straight parted in the middle look. We wanted to look like Peggy Lipton from Mod Squad but looked more like the girls that followed Manson! My hair was so long that I was able to be Cousin It for Halloween!!!
aND THEN IN A COMPLETE ACT OF BROTHERLY INSANITY...my brother cut off my braids when I was sleeping because I wouldn't give him money for something stupid! It went from long enough to sit on to above my ears. Needless to say the boy was grounded for life! And that is just the first 15 years! I will spare you most of the inbetween but 2 Christmases ago my regular girl called out and I said ok I don't want to come back so went with another stylist. I wanted my shoulder length bob TRIMMED and left with something between Billy Idol and Pat Benetar circa 1980! It's taken 2 years for it to even get close to what it was and there are still random pieces that don't make sense! So...with that in mind......stay away from the scissors! And yes Miss G you look MAHvelous!
In 1983 I was convinced to have a blonde pageboy, white blonde.
I have straight mousy hair now with a touch of grey.
When I was 21 though it was mascarading as dirty blonde with sun streaks. Hippy long, and on weekends a Farrah wannabe.
Fair, but not blonde enough for my friend...for her wedding.
...because she wanted all her bridesmaids to match. She was a brunette, and 3 blonde bridesmaids would look lovely.
So the week before her wedding we went to her hairdresser.
I can't look at the photos.
White blonde pageboy, with a tiny cocktail hat, in a burgundy dress...with blue eyeshadow.
It was the time I felt least like myself. *shudder*
Just realized my typo - blush - sleep deprivation? it was one of my other great fears in high school besides bad hair, not that I was at any great risk. I think next we should have a confessional of hideous outfits that we thought were terribly fashionable and attractive.
My worst hair mistake was the 80's perm. I don't have the kind of face that looks good with poodle hair. I thought I was getting the kind of hair that would be easy to care for, but there's a difference between Amy Irving (who was born with hair like this) and me (someone who had to buy hair like that).
Perms....oh my Lord what was I thinking? Had a profesional picture taken with my sister for Mom and Dad's anniversary, years later looking at the picture with my two year old niece....who is this? Mommy. Who is this? I don't know. Yes, it was that bad!
The difference between a good haircut and a bad haircut? Ten days, maybe two weeks!
Now I have a great hair person. She's 30 minutes away and worth the drive.
Have always struggled with my hair because I'm hopeless with styling tools and have a constant problem with certain ingredients causing flakes/making hair lovely vs. not causing flakes/making hair dull. I also discovered (after the age of 30) that most of my hair is naturally curly but the underside is full of straightness and cowlicks.
Getting a decent cut that is neither a pyramid wedge of curls or a mullet-esque curly top/straight bottom is almost impossible because stylists will insist, no matter how much I stress the unique behavior of my hair, that it would be better with texturizing/layers/etc. I have a ton of hair but it's thin...these thick curl techniques wreak havoc on my head and make a sad Teacakes. So I'm still on the prowl for somebody who listens to me and does as I ask.
My friend's mother permed my hair at her home. Electric-socket-fork-water results. We all cried, friend, mother and me. But I had to go to work (waitress in college) so I stuck my hair (which was actually honest to god sticking straight out like a blonde very bad afro after an electrocution) in a hat and drove off. On the way there, I drove past a hole in the wall hair-dresser window shop and spontaneously walked in. The hairdresser, Mary Jane, gasped at my entrance. She was locking up for the night but instead, she cut off all my hair -- short, short, short -- and sent me on my way to work. I looked terrific in that cut. And Mary Jane cut my hair --never a perm -- for the next 15 years, until she retired.
I just remembered! In high school (late 80s) I sprayed one side of my bangs high into the air and they cascaded down the other side. Then I played sports with light brown hair, so that one side of bangs was bleached to nearly white by the sun. At Halloween, some friends and I decided to use "temporary" hair color for fun, and I picked out a nice purple. It was supposed to wash out in a few shampoos, but that super-white-bleached hair in my bangs really held on to the dye. Half of my bangs were lavender for months and months.
I see now that I should posthumously thank my mother for not allowing me to ever get a perm. My sister had perms (because she got the stick-straight hair in a family with mostly curls and waves), but my mother wisely did not allow me the same "privilege." However, that did not stop me from cutting gum out of my hair (stuck really, really close to my scalp -- it took YEARS to grow out) right before picture day in first grade. It also didn't stop me from tying little pieces of colored yarn in tiny pigtails all over my head in second grade. I would have gotten away with that one, but it was one of two times I can recall my mother EVER coming to school during school hours! Apparently I looked like a ragamuffin child (the ultimate latchkey kid: before AND after school). There are no photos to prove how bad it looked... but that's probably a good thing. Mom was livid!
Every super-short haircut has been a bad idea. Every single one. My hair has a mind of its own, and the combination of length and weight keep it under control. Take away the length and weight and a monster is unleashed. So someone tell me why I had it cut super-short off and on through my childhood and youth... and worse, 3 weeks after meeting the man I eventually married! He had a big shock the next time he saw me. I may or may not have promised to never cut it that short again. He has, however, been very kind about my coloring escapades.
I grew up with a mother who could not do hair if her life depended upon it...so I was a pixie cut girl......and that trend continued for most of my life---the shorter the better. My husband, God love him, thought it would be amazing for me have hair down to my waist (I believe it involved some sort of fetish)....but with very thick, wavy hair, I was not going for it.
Then, my daughter became a hair stylist and proceeded to ban me from having my hair cut short ever again (her conversations with me went along the lines your's and Miss G's went)....and she was right......and now that she colors and cuts my hair.....my layered, shoulder length hair does look good....and, I can throw it into a ponytail whenever I don't give a crap how it looks
I am laughing SO HARD at these stories. Reagan pregnancy! Ronald McDonald and Wendy's love child! Dying over here.
When I was 16, my mother arranged for a friend of hers to cut my hair. I walked to her house and explained in great detail that I wanted to look kind of like Princess Diana. She gave me a mullet. Stunned, I paid her and said thank you and then walked home with tears streaming down my face. It was total hockey hair.
Then, when I was 19 (which was probably during the Reagan pregnancy, though we don't keep track up here in Canada), I had a poodle perm. I had just had my gall bladder removed, and went to get a perm. The perm wouldn't set (turns out that the general anaesthetic they gave me during surgery has an affect on hair structure. Who knew? Not me.) So the hair stylist had to leave it on a really long time. When it finally set, intead of loose wavy curls, it was uber corkscrew curly. Really. See? http://itsjustapie.blogspot.ca/2007/11/bad-hair-decade_13.html
Never again.
Dorothy Hamill's cute haircut only looked cute on her. Sadly not on me. Princess Di's cute haircut...also a bomb on my head. One year at prom my hair looked like Betty Ford's. Oh, and then there were the perms.....good lord, the perms.
Molly, I can completely relate to your comment! I, too, have very thick hair that needs to be weighed down by length in order to keep it from defying gravity. Since we move a lot, I'm constantly on the hunt for a hair stylist who can tolerate my very thick hair without getting irritated that I'm cutting into the next client's time because of the hours it takes to dry (even though I always warn them on the phone that I have VERY thick hair and they need to allot enough time for it....they never believe me.)
Anyway, 4th grade--my mom thought it'd be a good idea to get me a short hair cut at Supercuts. It wasn't. Picture a little girl, tiny face, HUGE afro head of hair. It was BAD.
On the flip side, I think I've FINALLY discovered how to tame my thick, wavy locks. Japanese hair straightening. It's amazing. Regardless of the humidity, whether I blow try, air dry, whatever....this hair stays non frizzy and under control. I highly recommend it. Unfortunately, you may have to come to Japan to do it because my sisters have informed me that the product may be illegal in the United States. Something about formaldehyde being in the product. But really, when it comes to having good hair, what's a little formaldehyde?
I've been waiting all weekend to share this! My first year living with my boyfriend (now husband) I got the pixie haircut of my dreams. I love short hair and finally got it chopped off. Well it didn't look quite like I thought it would. When I went home I asked Nick "how does it look?" He waited a few moments and then said: "
You look kind of like a Quaker."
W.T.F?
Remember the girl in 16 Candles whose head got stuck in a door, so they cut off half her hair? I had an asymmetrical cut once that was almost exactly like that. Nearly all photographic evidence has been destroyed very methodically. :)
Oh, God. Oh God Oh God Oh God. So many disasters, so little stomach for reliving them. In an attempt to look at the bright side, at least I was brave enough to try them!