My mom often did things that horrified me during my childhood. These things I swore I would never do, and I could always tell when she had done them. My mom would pluck her eyebrows, and I didn’t know why anyone would do such a thing. In 2003, late in blooming, I stripped my full caterpillar eyebrows with wax to respectable arches. They have kept their prominence as a feature and remained groomed since then.
My mom indulged her guilty pleasure or hidden talent for cutting her own fine, wavy hair, and still does. Again, I swore up and down and sideways that I would never do this to my challenging ringlets. Well, I learned my lesson after the time I took dull scissors to it to rid myself of split ends (at age 13) and ended up with even more. And when singeing hair to cut it became trendy, I wanted to try too. It smelled awful and gave me more split ends.
I begged my mom to stop cutting her own hair for years, until I took her with me to a former hairstylist of mine who said my mom had cut her own hair so well that she should consider a career in it. Okay, Mom, you won.
Living in the rural mountains of Colorado, I have had a hard time finding a stylist who doesn’t charge $50 or more. I know it’s a ski town, and they can charge more in this tourist-driven area, but COME ON! Call me cheap, but I won’t pay more than $32 for a cut, and I prefer to pay less, but not at SuperCuts or GreatClips or wherever else offers a crappy, 5-minute cut.
So, the last time I got a cut, I tried out a local salon in my even smaller and more rural town. It was her first time cutting my hair and trying to follow the last cut I got and LOVED at the Aveda salon in Salt Lake when my mom lived there. I liked the cut I got here and it only cost $20. It was more of a trim, and it didn’t look all that different when I left.
Two weeks ago, it had been two months since my most recent cut, and it needed reshaping. I shut the door to the bathroom and grabbed the medical scissors I keep in my basket. Snip, snip, snip to the sides I did. Bye-bye curly ends that had started to head in their own direction. It looked better and less straggly. One session led to another and another, and now after 3 of my own side-shapings, it needs a true trim in the back. (I told my mom this yesterday, and she looked shocked, I say, shocked…and a little proud of me for cutting my own hair.)
So, I just have one question. Mom, what are you doing next Saturday?