How not to fix a bad hair cut
I think I might get my hair cut.
They were the last words I uttered before I made the decision to place myself in front of a complete stranger who was armed with a pair of scissors and a looming knock off time.
I flashed my hair inspo snaps. This is what I would like, please.
After all, it’s a bob – how hard can it be?
I could have placed a bowl on my head, saved the cashola and hacked it myself.
Ok, it wasn’t that bad. But when your hair has 879 different personalities, a bad cut makes all the difference.
She cut it, I said “oh, wow. It’s awesome”. I paid. I left. I realised.
Awesome it was not.
I couldn’t style it. I tried doing the messy look, straightening it, products, bobby pins, hair ties, head bands – if I didn’t move, it was passable. Just.
As soon as I moved, it was like one bad hair cut had invited his whole gang of bad hair cut mates over for a reunion, someone had spiked the punch and things were getting messy.
So day 2 came and as just as I leaned down to grab some more soap from the bathroom cupboard before jumping in the shower, I saw it.
A little box of bad hair cut concealer, perhaps?
It peeked out at me, like a little shining light in a day full of bad hair moments.
My heart said no. But my head said, DO IT.
A DIY permanent hair colour will fix the bad cut and make it all better again.
Before I knew it, I was gloved up, towel around my shoulders and fixing my haircut by adding a colour. that I hadn’t even checked, to my hacked hair.
Because what could possibly go wrong.
It turned darker and darker before my eyes and still I left it in. I’m sure it will be fine I thought to myself, feeling a little wave of panic setting in.
I stayed the course. The full 30mins of evil hair colour penetrating each poorly cut strand, my dry (slightly grey) hair sucked it in as fast as red cordial soaks into a white couch.
I’m sure most of that “almost-black-slightly purple-is that mahogany or eggplant tint-oh my gosh what have I done” will wash out to reveal a mane of hair that would have Oscar Cullinan on the phone requesting me to retrain all his staff…..won’t it?
FUCK FUCK FUCK.
It’s not coming out. LIKE NOT AT ALL.
I’m sure it’ll lighten once it’s dry.
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK.
Hey Siri – seach for hat stores in Australia; hat company partnerships; shares in hat company; hats on trend 2017.
I put up with that crap cut and terrible colour for months before I went and saw Jess at Hopscotch Hair. OK, so it was actually just a few days of dealing with it, but it felt like months.
As a sidenote – pretty serendipitous that one of the screenshots I’d taken was from Jess’ page. Unplanned. We were meant to be together. Wait, that sounds creepy.
My last awesome hair dresser was 10yrs ago and he abandoned me to move to Melbourne. Apparently it was for a promotion. He didn’t even ask my opinion. Pfffffft.
Since then, I’ve been on a roller coaster ride of hair styles: bad cut, good cut, ok cut, good cut, bad cut, terrible cut.
I’ve been reluctant to commit to calling anyone “my hairdresser”. But get the knighting sword out, I’ve dubbed Jess officially.
And hello STUNNING SALON.
And then once you get in there, you feel like you’re catching up with a friend who makes you pee your pants laughing (sorry for whoever sits in that chair next). KIDDING.
Or am I?
Oh, and the salon is on a street full of house porn that makes the stylist in me want to knock on each door and ask if they’ll adopt me.
We covered heaps of ground. Babies, kids, moustaches, excess body hair (yes, on us), food, eye candy (if you’re lucky you’ll experience that too).
But the clincher for me?
Apart from the fact that Jess saw the party that was happening in my hair and sorted that shit out faster than a taser gun on a bad guy.
IT HAS A FREAKING FULLY SUPERVISED CRECHE.
Fully supervised. Right there. Safe as houses.
And changing facilities. Because babies poo at inappropriate moments.
This is happening right here in Brisvegas people. Right underneath our noses.
Husband is FIFO? No drama.
Clingy toddler? Easy peasy.
Newborn that feeds every 5 seconds and can’t be without your boobs? Sorted.
And I even managed to do it the next day without almost throwing the hairdryer out the window like I had been with my last cut.
So if you’re going to take anything away from this, here’s my top 3:
- Go see Jess.
- A DIY hair colour doesn’t fix a bad cut.
- Go see Jess
If you want more details, you can find me shampooing my hair in Head and Shoulders to try and strip some of this DIY colour out.
At least I’ll have no dandruff, and hair so clean that even CSI won’t be able to find a trace of my own DNA.