Monday, March 5, 2012

Some Color In The Life: One Step Forward, Another Backward?

It was a moment of change to come. I walked into the hair salon proudly carrying my bag of new hair color. I was ready. I walked in there as a boring dark haired girl and I would walk out with some color in my life. No brown hair. That was too safe. No blonde. Everyone does blonde to feel brave. I picked the bravest color of them all, red. However, I knew there would be confusion and I thought I was mentally prepared for it. 

Do you ever have your mind completely made up with an idea and then someone throws a million questions to confuse you? It all started with the color choice. I had bought a box of a specific red color I wanted in my hair. The stylist took one look and said "We don't use box colors. We use the salon stuff." Well, that wasn't a problem. The problem came when she bought out two books of color for me to look at with multiple shades of red. I became so lost trying to choose a color. Although the simplest solution would have been for her to find the color that matched the box I had bought, it was too easy of a task. We needed to choose the hard way. 

The color was finally chosen. It was a 6 R, also known as Ruby Rage on the beauty store shelves. 

The process begins. The stylists asks someone for advice to be sure she is about to put the color on right. That scares me. She then mixes up the color and disappears for a second. Maybe she's trying to build up excitement for me. After she settles down, the process begins. In the midst of it I have flashbacks to getting perms. The difference is avoiding scratching is not a precaution beforehand in this case. She puts color everywhere except the roots and then disappears. This is done so my hair will be darker at the roots and lighter toward the tips. It wasn't my idea. Well, before she disappears her next appointment arrives. She comes back, washes their hair, and then comes back to me. She finishes putting all the color on and then tells me to move to another chair for a minute while all the color sets in. It feels like forever before another stylists checks my hair. The other woman lets her know I'm ready to be washed out. After a good wash out, shampoo, and conditioner it's final. I'm a new woman. Okay, I'm the woman with a new permanent color. 

A Very Subtle Color 
But it's not over. She admires her work and decides I need a trim. I wanted a trim, but what she does is not what I was thinking. She trims and realizes my hair is a little uneven. Then she gets carried away. It is at the point when I realize there is a scissor happy stylist on my head. Maybe it's my imagination playing tricks on me, but she cuts me back to my original starting point. That moment when I first had the big chop. I'm a bald headed scallawag (that has too many old songs stuck in her head) again, but with a cute new color. 

Don't tell anyone this, but... while I want my hair to be cute and look like the millions of girls on the natural hair sites, I love this short look. It reminds me of actress Monica Calhoun in The Player's Club before she got her butt kicked. I'm a suburban girl with ghetto girl dreams. 

More pictures below

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