Hatchet Job

Sometimes it pays to go "cheap". Other times...

On Tuesday, I took Joseph to Supercuts to get his hair trimmed. The child's red locks were unruly and out of control - and not in a cute way. I've been feeling that postpartum "blah" which can only resolve itself by either a) losing fifty pounds in two days or b) getting a new hair cut. Since former is highly unlikely - did you see the banana bread recipe? - I decided to go for the latter.

If I were a more patient person, I would have just made an appointment with a salon and left it at that. Instead, in a burst of "if I don't do this now, I'll take the kitchen shears to my head" energy, I sat down in a chair next to Joseph at Supercuts.

Fifteen minutes later, I looked in the mirror at a hack job. I had asked for long bangs and some layers. It looked like I'd allowed Joseph to cut my hair. With safety scissors. The layers were abrupt and uneven. The bangs weren't bangs at all.

Now, I'm not one of those gals that has an emotional attachment to my hair. For years, a dear friend was my stylist and I enjoyed her experimentation. Dye it burgundy? Why not? Chop off twelve inches? Go for it! Bleach it blonde? What can it hurt? But this. This was not good.

For the first time in my life, I wanted to put a paper bag over my head. I had asked for enough length to wear a ponytail, not for hair that was required to be in one.

I immediately put out the call to find a stylist that could fix this mess. Thankfully, I found one in town. She was inexpensive and available. After a 45 minute appointment, the damage had been repaired without resorting to a buzz cut.

I still need the bangs to be a bit shorter. I've decided I'm not they type of girl who can brush her bangs away from her eyes in a casual, sexy motion. Maybe when I was in my 20's I could have pulled that off. Now I just look frantic. In the meantime...

Lesson learned. For some things....don't pinch pennies.