My stylist has left my salon. After three years of great cuts and natural looking color, she has walked away from an environment that she found too “competitive” to strike out with other like minded women in a new location.
Translation: My adorable but slackerish stylist with grateful dead tattooes and rasta sensibilities has left the aromatherapy heaven that is Aveda to go work in a VERY BAD NEIGHBORHOOD at a salon that advertises “Weaves” as one of it’s pride and joy services.
I found out last week when I got “the call”. Worse than your boyfriend breaking up with you is the stylist who is leaving call. They expect you to follow them to wherever their new location is–in my case it is 30 minutes away in a VERY BAD NEIGHBORHOOD. I went from one of the top three salons in our town to something that looked like a bad joke. Crime bars on every window…sandwiched between a Mexican Cucina and a Night Club that only disturbed bikers and mentally off Vietnam Vets might frequent (behind the VA across from the 7eleven.)
Even the name…Flaw’liss…gave me pause. Are we being cute? Can we spell? I passed the building twice because my mind didn’t register the sign as FLAWLESS. So there I am…double checking the lock on the Volvo and glad that I was wearing hole filled jeans and a tank top after a sleepless night with a sick baby….feeling trapped. I needed my roots done something fierce! I had to ask if the salon was scarier than showing up at my little brother’s graduation this weekend with two inch roots?
My stylist rolled in late with a big gulp as I sat in a tiny chair in a concrete room filled with women who were eyeing me like I had miscalculated on my way to the junior league auxillary luncheon. The rest of the clientele sported pink crewcuts, dreads, and plenty of do-rags. Obviously they were wondering what had brought me there.
I put on my best game face and concentrated on catching up with my stylist…getting the dish on her decision to leave a high paying but high pressure job and strike out with this crew in a low income generating salon. Typically I have a glass of wine and enjoy some aromatherapy while I am getting styled. Today, there was a TV showing reruns of Las Vegas and plenty of watchful eyes.
I decided that I loved my girl too much to give up based on lack of Aveda products and amenities, so I stuck it out through cut and color. BAD CHOICE.
Call me snobby…but in the world of hair color you get what you pay for. Brown with auburn highlights in a high end salon looks natural on your head. Brown with auburn highlights in a cheap salon buys you burgundy hair that makes me look like I might ditch the stay at home mom gig and get the band back together….
I had a sad look on my face when I over tipped my friend and hugged her goodbye. Now I have to find a new stylist or possibly even a new salon. In the meantime, I am headed to my little brother’s graduation this weekend with burgundy hair. A shade not seen on this head since I was young and broke and thought looking like a newly minted penny was attractive.