I took one last glance at the mirror in my room, before shying away upon the look of the terrible haircut that my hairdresser gave me just hours ago. My healthy and long black tresses were now left with an unevenly layered haircut, with the longest layer hanging just below my shoulders.
I frequented the hairdresser that gave me this terrible cut – I am a loyal customer, once I like a hairdresser’s work on me, I will probably stay on for a considerably long period of time. However, she’s been doing her job poorly lately as my last few haircuts were not satisfactory to my expectations.
I had wanted to give her one last chance this time, hoping she would give me a decent haircut. To my disappointment, she did not and this served as a sign for me – it’s time to change salons.
I immediately switched on my laptop and searched up a list of salons within the vicinity. There was one that particularly caught my eye, and there were plenty of good reviews of the hair services from the salon. I pulled up the GPS on my phone and entered in the address of the salon, and made a break for the salon instantly.
Following the GPS, I drove up to a quiet street filled with shops along the pathways of the street. It was Saturday and pretty late in the evening, thus most of the shops were already closed. I saw bright lights shine out from one of the shop windows not far ahead from my car. ‘That must be the salon.’ I thought. I parked my car beside a shop entrance some distance away from the salon because the parking lots near to the salon were already taken.
I strolled nervously along the pathway towards the salon, my heart thumping heavily away because it’s been a long time since I’ve been to a new salon. As I walked up to the front of the salon, bright but warm lightings shone out from the clear windows at the front of the salon, and it was particularly quiet. ‘There is probably no business on a late Saturday, I suppose.’ I took a few heavy steps up to the salon entrance, and pulled open the door slowly.
I was instantly greeted with the pungent but familiar smell of hair chemicals, but that was quickly brought aside of my focus as I took a good look around the salon. Five black salon chairs were situated on each side of the salon, accompanied with a frameless rectangular mirror that enveloped both sides of the wall.
A young looking lady, probably in her early twenties, quickly noticed my arrival and stepped off from the front desk to greet me. ‘Hello, are you here for a haircut?’ she asked politely. ‘Yeah, it’s my second time in a salon today.’ I replied shyly as I ran my fingers through my ruined hair. She understood my point quickly. ‘Take a seat, I will be right with you.’ she said with a gentle smile. I took a seat at one of the salon chairs as she quickly emerged from a door behind the front desk.
She had now a hairdressing pouch strapped around her waist, and unfolded a white hairdressing cape as she asked, ‘So how would you like me to fix your hair, perhaps just cutting enough to get it all evened out?’
I did not have anything in mind; all I knew now was that I wanted to get rid of this terrible mess. ‘I actually don’t really have anything in mind.’ I answered honestly.
‘Well then, are you interested in getting a whole new look? Pixies are pretty in trend these days.’ she responded. I deliberated at the thought of her suggestion – I didn’t really like short hair, and I haven’t had short hair since I was 12. ‘Short hair was probably not in my agenda when I stepped into this salon, but hell, my hair was already in a mess, so why not?’ I thought after a short while.
Seeing that I was looking interested at her suggestion, she folded up my hair to give the illusion of short hair, and pulled the sides to resemble a side fringe. ‘I could cut the sides and back pretty short, but keep the top considerably long with a lengthy sideswept fringe, what do you think?’ she said, now beaming at possibility of chopping off my locks, or what’s left of it.
I was not dissuaded by her being scissors-happy; I was more interested in getting a good haircut.
‘Do it.’ I said, without any further consideration. I was shocked at my straightforwardness, especially as I am about to lose all my long tresses from the rash decision I just made!
Pleased by my decision, she then tucked a shampoo towel around my shoulders into my collar, and shook the white cape over me, fastening it snuggly around my neck. Drawing a pair of sharp scissors and a long comb off her hair pouch, she combed down my hair, taming any unruly kinks that were present. My hair at the top was then sectioned off from the sides and back and pinned up with a long hairpin.
‘Schnick schnick!’ She sliced off my long locks at the back, and my head felt lighter with each snip! It is finally done, my hair is all gone. She moved on, cropping my sides and back tight to the skin, but still keeping the texture soft. As she chopped off my hair at the sides, the long tresses slid down the white cape, gathering in my lap. My eyes got wet but I was determined to not cry. It was after all, a decision I made myself.
My hair on top was then unpinned, and the long hair look was temporarily revived as the long hair on top covered the now cropped sides and back. I was quickly brought back to reality as she sectioned out a part of my long hair and ruthlessly sliced through it. A pixie look emerged quickly as she cut the remaining sections of hair off.
I was momentarily shocked at my dramatic transformation – although the look was chic, something seemed to be lacking. I needed some edge in the cut. ‘Can we go shorter on the sides and back?’ I asked her.
‘Sure, but I would have to use a clipper to get that length.’ she responded instantaneously. I nodded, as if giving her approval to do so. She grabbed the clipper off the charger stand on the narrow table in front of the chair I was on, and gently tilted my head forward to a 45 degree angle. I was then greeted with an unknown thud from the clipper – this is the first time I was getting my hair run through with a clipper! She then pushed the clipper up my nape, littering short strands of hair around my neck, gathering on the cape. A cold sensation could be felt with each pass of the clipper up my nape, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. She then quickly moved to work on the two sides, driving the clipper up my temple. I took a glance at my reflection in my mirror, and was finally satisfied with the oncoming look.
My hair was finished off with some hair spray, and I now sported a chic pixie look with tightly cropped sides and back. It was a good contrast from my past long hairstyles, and as I touched my hair at the back, the short stubble gave a prickly feel, but it aroused me, mysteriously.
She then unfastened the cape, and the pile of long hair that gathered in my lap slid off onto the floor. I got off the chair, thanked her for the haircut and gave her a generous tip before exiting the salon.
As I walked towards my car, I looked into my reflection from the shop windows, and was fascinated by how feminine and elegant the pixie cut looked on me. I’m never growing my hair out again.