I haven’t had my hair cut for almost four months since coming to Ireland. I don’t know even how much it costs here- didn’t bother to ask when it was so obvious that it would be extremely expensive. Given the fact that I used to be a monthly visitor to a beauty parlour, you can easily imagine what a hideous look I have by now. Or, on the assumption that you should be a generous, sympathetic person, a pity for my devastation might be expected. Indeed, it just devastates me. Among ill temper, funny eyebrows and other inheritances that I’d rather not be given, if it was my choice, the most stressful one is this stupidly powerful “curly hair” gene. Since my mother stopped doing my hair, it has never looked neat and tidy. It seemed as if my hair had its own will. Still, I could somehow maintain a bit of decency, thanks to my frequent visit to a beauty parlour- I didn’t realize that until I could not afford monthly cut any longer.
Actually, despite my great love for beauty parlours and hairdressers, I was by no means one of the big sisters, who spent hundreds of euros at one visit.(in my country’s currency, Won, it even goes up to HUNDREDS THOUSANDS Wons.) I would merely get a trim and shampoo, nothing more. It may sound strange, but I had no faith in a beauty parlour. Let alone expensive perm or special treatment, I simply didn’t believe a haircut would make me look nicer since my hair looked crazy all the same right after getting cut. The only reason for regular visits was the sense of being taken care of. The gentle stroke of fingers on the scalp, through strands of hair, was irresistible. I loved it when they washed my hair, asking if water is too cold of hot for me. I even thought I would ask my boyfriend(if I happen to have one, ever) to do that. I never did.
Four months without a haircut taught me that getting a haircut meant more than just being comfortably looked after. Synergy between untrimmed curly hair and wind is incredibly working on me. I thought my hair was out of control, but it wasn’t back then. NOW it is. Ironically, seeing my pics taken these days, my friends wondered if I got my hair permed-obviously not because it was fashionable. It looked so tremendously curly that they could hardly imagine it was anything but intended.
Maybe I’ll have to buy a hair dryer after all?
Actually, despite my great love for beauty parlours and hairdressers, I was by no means one of the big sisters, who spent hundreds of euros at one visit.(in my country’s currency, Won, it even goes up to HUNDREDS THOUSANDS Wons.) I would merely get a trim and shampoo, nothing more. It may sound strange, but I had no faith in a beauty parlour. Let alone expensive perm or special treatment, I simply didn’t believe a haircut would make me look nicer since my hair looked crazy all the same right after getting cut. The only reason for regular visits was the sense of being taken care of. The gentle stroke of fingers on the scalp, through strands of hair, was irresistible. I loved it when they washed my hair, asking if water is too cold of hot for me. I even thought I would ask my boyfriend(if I happen to have one, ever) to do that. I never did.
Four months without a haircut taught me that getting a haircut meant more than just being comfortably looked after. Synergy between untrimmed curly hair and wind is incredibly working on me. I thought my hair was out of control, but it wasn’t back then. NOW it is. Ironically, seeing my pics taken these days, my friends wondered if I got my hair permed-obviously not because it was fashionable. It looked so tremendously curly that they could hardly imagine it was anything but intended.
Maybe I’ll have to buy a hair dryer after all?
journal*
2009/05/03 07:36, mari.
