The Great Eyelash Tinting of 07.

[The post in which I waffle on about trivial things like hair and eyelashes and things. Five minutes of your life you'll never be able to get back again.]

I think in whatever field of work you reside in, there's a need to be empathetic about things which may be sensitive or emotionally disturbing to you or your clients/peers. For teaching, it can be as simple as not going on and on about Mothers Day, when you've got a kidlet in your class who doesn't have a mother. If you're a hairdresser? To me, it means you listen to the client and try to do what they want, clarifying what you're doing along the way.

In simpler terms? Do not fuck with their hair. Give them what they want. Give them only what they want. Because if you fuck with their hair? It takes a mighty long time to grow back. And yes. This is coming from personal experience.

In December, I visited a salon near my work - we had a year six farewell dinner that night and I thought I'd have a shampoo and blowdry, since only hairdressers can make my hair go all smooth and flippy and frizz-free. While I was there, I decided to get my hair trimmed. Keep in mind, I have long hair. It was about mid-way down my back at that stage, with only one mid-sized layer to keep it thick. I'm sure you see where this story as going. To quote myself, here's what happened;

I went into the hairdresser today with high hopes and a few simple words. "Just a tiny trim off the length - I’m trying to grow it out. Oh and just trim my fringe too, please." I thought that meant "Just a tiny trim off the length - I’m trying to grow it, oh and just trim my fringe too, please." [As you would, right?] Apparently what it actually meant was "Hack at my hair in large chunks, giving me Rachel-style bangs around my face and chopping at least 2 inches of length off the back and 5 inches around my face. And then beat me with a stick."

Yep, she really did that. Left me with mutilated hair and layers that refuse to grow out, eight months later. As well as a fear of people wielding scissors.

To say I was nervous about visiting the salon yesterday was an understatement. I relaxed a little while being shampooed (somehow, massaging your own scalp in the shower just doesn't have the same effect as lying in a comfy chair with someone else doing it to you) and ended up spilling my hair horror story to my stylist, who did a great job of acting surprised, sympathetic & outraged all at once.
(I love that woman.)

To cut an already-getting-long story short, she fixed the damage. She fixed the straggly bits, re-shaped the will-be-growing-out-forever layers & gave me some side swept bangs, that seem to be behaving so far.

(And no, I didn't get brave and have my hair colour changed while I was there, it's just that my el-cheapo camera has apparently decided I look better as a brownish red-head. And what el-cheapo camera wants, el-cheapo camera gets.)

As for the eyelash tinting? Me and my spectacular MS Paint skills put together a little before & after diagram for you. Let me just share an occupational health and safety warning before we begin, as viewing these up close photographs may cause blinding and retinal damage. Thank you.

You may click here to see the results, if you're so inclined.

And on a completely unrelated note, I have just added some of my new-found blog stalkees to my "Stalkeriffic Blogs" page. Check it out, and do drop me a line if I've forgotten you. Will remedy immediately, for chocolates of course.