FUCKING HAIRDRESSERS.
I spent most of my childhood being subjected to horrific haircuts chosen by my mother. My teenage years were spent growing my hair to ridiculous lengths in response to the godawful bob that had been forced on me in previous years.
I have had nothing but grief with hairdressers. Until around this time last year I found one who understood exactly what I wanted, and just DID IT. Great. I even made special trips back up to Carlisle once I'd moved to Manchester, just to see her, because I knew I could trust her.
But familiarity breeds contempt - and every time I went back to her she put that much less effort in. Until we reached the point we reached today, where I had to ask her to dye ALL my black bits black and not just the roots, after she left the faded brown ends as they were. I explained I was having a shoot done tomorrow and needed all of it done. She usually does it all - why she didn't this time I don't know.
She then neglected to put foil between the layer full of black dye and my blonde layers that needed meching - she just left it to stick itself to the black dye. Erm, right. She's usually very careful, I thought - what's going on?
She then didn't bother touching up the blonde at my roots RIGHT AT THE FRONT - and my blonde bang was all splotchy from the black dye. I couldn't believe it. I didn't even get heat protecting cream before she straightened it.
I didn't tip her and didn't make another appointment. My black fringe has patchy roots and my blonde bang is fucked. I spent her tip on a bottle of cheapass black dye to touch up her mistakes.
If you want a job worth doing, do it your fucking self.
I spent most of my childhood being subjected to horrific haircuts chosen by my mother. My teenage years were spent growing my hair to ridiculous lengths in response to the godawful bob that had been forced on me in previous years.
I have had nothing but grief with hairdressers. Until around this time last year I found one who understood exactly what I wanted, and just DID IT. Great. I even made special trips back up to Carlisle once I'd moved to Manchester, just to see her, because I knew I could trust her.
But familiarity breeds contempt - and every time I went back to her she put that much less effort in. Until we reached the point we reached today, where I had to ask her to dye ALL my black bits black and not just the roots, after she left the faded brown ends as they were. I explained I was having a shoot done tomorrow and needed all of it done. She usually does it all - why she didn't this time I don't know.
She then neglected to put foil between the layer full of black dye and my blonde layers that needed meching - she just left it to stick itself to the black dye. Erm, right. She's usually very careful, I thought - what's going on?
She then didn't bother touching up the blonde at my roots RIGHT AT THE FRONT - and my blonde bang was all splotchy from the black dye. I couldn't believe it. I didn't even get heat protecting cream before she straightened it.
I didn't tip her and didn't make another appointment. My black fringe has patchy roots and my blonde bang is fucked. I spent her tip on a bottle of cheapass black dye to touch up her mistakes.
If you want a job worth doing, do it your fucking self.
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Good luck with finding a new one.