Turns out my hair salon has a loose policy on “trims”. If one returns to the salon 2 weeks after having gotten a cut that was completely adorable other than the side-swept bangs that were just long enough to form an effective vision-obstructing curtain but not quite long enough to tuck behind the ear, one can come in for a “bang trim” resulting in a completely new look, which is totally hot instead of completely adorable. For free. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off of myself all weekend.
Bangs are evidently hard. Stylists either get it, or they don’t, a lesson that I have learned the hard way. In the three years that I’ve had bangs, I’ve had one good cut and about 6 bad ones. There was the bang trim that went around half of my head, a cut also known as a “mullet” and there was the super short bang cut that made me look like a lobotomy patient. Many have cut my bangs in such a way that they look like limp dead things plastered to the top of my head. This chick did them just right. I am a veritable walking work of art.
(Gah, had pictures, but they’re on the other computer. Have come too far to turn back now. No illustrations. Just picture me having to hold my head violently to one side like the RCA dog to keep the bangs out of my face.)
I was prepared to pay full-price for the trim, but thing was, I needed them to charge me for it because I haven’t carried cash in years. As bang trims are free, the only thing for it was to buy some kind of product and add a tip to that bill.
A brush? Mm, nah. I have brushes and combs.
Nail polish? Not being from Jersey, I don’t really do nail polish.
Shampoo? The shampoo they use at that salon is tingly and refreshing and makes your whole world smell like sunshine. Shampoo. Yes. I would buy shampoo.
“This stuff’s on sale!” Chirped my stylist, steering me towards a box-set with shampoo, conditioner, hairspray and a god-awful hairband that I’ll never ever wear. “50% off! And it’s vegan!” Which is about the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, although I suppose it’s nice to know that when you squeeze the bottle, a lump of steak isn’t going to be deposited in your hand. I nearly didn’t buy it for that reason, alone except that just then the door opened, a gust of air caught my hair and I got another good whiff of what was happening on my head. Heaven. So I bought it.
Ladies and gentlemen, that shampoo had better last forever. Turns out that the little bitty package with the cubic-zirconia mess of headband and the hairspray that I’ll probably never use was easily twice as much as the haircut would’ve been. But hot-damn, do I smell like… whichever Greek goddess was in charge of making sure that things smelled amazing. Pure-ology. Two thumbs up.
In the spirit of consumerism, as per the season, here are some additional product reviews:
-Noxema sells razors now. These shaving razors come in packs of girly colors emblazoned with promises such as “easier rinsing” (swear to God, it says that right on the pack.), “smoother skin” and “closer shave”. It is a closer shave…than if you hadn’t shaved at all. And easier rinsing perhaps because the water runs in rivuletted canals created by the canyons in between the chicken stubble on your legs and the smooth skin in-between. The skin on my hands is smoother because layers of skin are exfoliated off just running them over my legs to check the shaving job. Boys wonder why girls steal their razors. Answer = Because boy razors are designed to shave hair. Girl razors are designed to be aesthetically pleasing and to fit into your hand in an ergonomically correct fashion. Slapping some dull strips of metal into the design somewhere is usually a distant after-thought. My legs are like velcro. If I cross them, I’m scared they’d get stuck that way. Frowny face in Noxema’s general direction.
-Orville Redenbacker’s Cheddar Popcorn is even more disgusting than it sounds, give it a definite miss. If, while shopping, it somehow sounds good to you, abandon your cart immediately, back slowly out of the grocery store and go have a sandwich or something until your tummy regains a semblance of sanity.
And as Christmas is breathing down our necks, I suppose I could also share some gift-giving advice. Be thoughtful, but don’t encroach upon anyone’s passion. Don’t buy something geeky for a geek, let them be geeks all by themselves. Buy them something else, entirely. Or you will get the wrong thing.
Also, don’t go out and buy something awesome for yourself right before the holidays (MOM) because maybe, just maybe, your daughters love you and want to be thoughtful as all get-out and are continually thwarted by you, the object of their affection. Yes, Christmas shouldn’t be just about giving gifts but – you know what? It’s FUN to give heart-felt tokens of love and I appreciate the excuse of the season.
It’s going to be a slow week. I will likely be blogging a lot. But. Just in case: