mid-2008
She decided to save about one hundred dollars every six to seven weeks by eliminating hair salon visits. She figured that it couldn't be hard to add a few highlights here and there. Using a store-bought kit. Chemicals painted on to bring out some shine on various strands of her natural mousy-brown hair.
The first time, she sat in the bathroom, reading the application directions. She'd never been so brave before. To mess with beauty products. It was all so foreign to her. Really. She was a simple Simon.
She asked him if he'd mind helping her out. Help her with making sure the bleach was applied just right. All over. In places she couldn't account for.
He did. He helped.
"Not bad," she said, pleasantly surprised. It actually looked like what the stylist had done previously. "Not bad at all." He ran his fingers through her blown-dried lightened hair. He smiled. "Yeah. Pretty good," he stated.
A month later she applied another upkeep slathering of chemicals to her hair. She felt kind of pro-like so she didn't bother him. Him and his sports-fest.
The result was a bit too blond; but, hey, blond was the goal. For her.
She was feeling good about saving money. Helping with their limited budget. Putting the money into more important things, like the payment due bills. So there she was, browsing the do it yourself aisle in the large target-icon store. She decided to test her creativity.
Rather than pulling a plastic cap tightly down over her thick-haired scalp and pulling intermittent strands of hair through tiny holes then drenching them in bleach, she decided on a product that simply provided a large-toothed comb to apply golden highlights on specifically chosen by her sections of hair. Seemed simple enough. Easy. Quick.
Wrong! What a disaster that was! Her hair looked orange! Seriously! Orange!
She realized right then and there she had gone too far. She did not know what she was doing.
Her hair was getting worse. Very uncreative!
She was not a colorist after all.
She freaked!
She drove around town looking for someone. Anyone. A person who knew how to fix the damage she had done. She rushed into a just opened for the day walk-in hair salon. A familiar, commercialized some guy named Sam chain.
A happy face greeted her while staring at her sherbert orange looks like she stuck her finger in a socket frizz.
With the seemed to know her way around messed up hair stylist's help, her locks now looked strawberry blond. More of a red tint than blond.
At least the left side did. Looked strawberry blond.
The right side looked more natural.
Sun-kissed.
A color she could handle.
Maybe.
Weird. She was two-toned. One side lighter than the other. So weird.
Ironically, her hair looked so much better.
To her, anyway.
She would have to deal with it for a while.
Dealt with it she did.
She waited another month or more before she made an appointment at an upscale meaning expensive salon.
She was going dark. Dark hair.
Forget the golden blond. For now.
She would return to her natural mousy-brown. A plain Jane.
Not her favorite idea, but much better than orange or Phantom-like.
She decided to save about one hundred dollars every six to seven weeks by eliminating hair salon visits. She figured that it couldn't be hard to add a few highlights here and there. Using a store-bought kit. Chemicals painted on to bring out some shine on various strands of her natural mousy-brown hair.
The first time, she sat in the bathroom, reading the application directions. She'd never been so brave before. To mess with beauty products. It was all so foreign to her. Really. She was a simple Simon.
She asked him if he'd mind helping her out. Help her with making sure the bleach was applied just right. All over. In places she couldn't account for.
He did. He helped.
"Not bad," she said, pleasantly surprised. It actually looked like what the stylist had done previously. "Not bad at all." He ran his fingers through her blown-dried lightened hair. He smiled. "Yeah. Pretty good," he stated.
A month later she applied another upkeep slathering of chemicals to her hair. She felt kind of pro-like so she didn't bother him. Him and his sports-fest.
The result was a bit too blond; but, hey, blond was the goal. For her.
She was feeling good about saving money. Helping with their limited budget. Putting the money into more important things, like the payment due bills. So there she was, browsing the do it yourself aisle in the large target-icon store. She decided to test her creativity.
Rather than pulling a plastic cap tightly down over her thick-haired scalp and pulling intermittent strands of hair through tiny holes then drenching them in bleach, she decided on a product that simply provided a large-toothed comb to apply golden highlights on specifically chosen by her sections of hair. Seemed simple enough. Easy. Quick.
Wrong! What a disaster that was! Her hair looked orange! Seriously! Orange!
She realized right then and there she had gone too far. She did not know what she was doing.
Her hair was getting worse. Very uncreative!
She was not a colorist after all.
She freaked!
She drove around town looking for someone. Anyone. A person who knew how to fix the damage she had done. She rushed into a just opened for the day walk-in hair salon. A familiar, commercialized some guy named Sam chain.
A happy face greeted her while staring at her sherbert orange looks like she stuck her finger in a socket frizz.
With the seemed to know her way around messed up hair stylist's help, her locks now looked strawberry blond. More of a red tint than blond.
At least the left side did. Looked strawberry blond.
The right side looked more natural.
Sun-kissed.
A color she could handle.
Maybe.
Weird. She was two-toned. One side lighter than the other. So weird.
Ironically, her hair looked so much better.
To her, anyway.
She would have to deal with it for a while.
Dealt with it she did.
She waited another month or more before she made an appointment at an upscale meaning expensive salon.
She was going dark. Dark hair.
Forget the golden blond. For now.
She would return to her natural mousy-brown. A plain Jane.
Not her favorite idea, but much better than orange or Phantom-like.
Oh I feel your pain.
ReplyDeleteI just did something similiar.
I have an appointment Saturday to fix the mess I did to myself to save money and I'm spending money anyway. Aargh!
Here's to not being bald by the end of this!
:-)
Oh no, but I bet you look great now.
ReplyDeleteI've had orange spots, rocked an unatural green tint and thrown myself at the mercy of my hairdresser. I don't choose cut or color, I just let her do her thing.
The orange is a result of not letting the hair process long enough. It goes through the red, to the blonde ;-)
ReplyDeleteGrinZ at the Gene Pool Diva, I did that unnatural green once too! Actually I have done my own hair for years, and have no trouble.
The time it turned green was because I thought black would be a nice look (I'm a natural redhead)... uhm if "Goth" would have been in style when I was a teen, I MIGHT have pulled it off, but it wasn't.
Then I died just the front strands blonde... bleached platinum actually. It still didn't matter how much make-up I put on, I was ghostly white. So I decided to do the whole head blonde (yep, straight from black to blonde), and so I did... only two days after the first couple of attempts.
I had an OMG moment when I looked at the carrot orange hair (very unnatural, even for a redhead) that was on my head and freaked. So, I took another trip to the drug store for my "natural" colour. On the fourth day of my hair dying excursion it turned green... the kind of green you find on old pennies green... the kind of green a blonde gets from too much time in the pool green. I called Loreal to see if there was anything I could do to fix it and the voice on the other end of the line said "Don't touch it, or it will all fall out"... yep, that was the colour I wore for several weeks afterward. When I was able to dye it again I did, and never tried that blue-black that looks so good on other people again. (shakes her head)
Thanks d~ for the memories! ;-)
k~