July 22, 2007
it’s hard to be a girl, or why vanity is a deadly sin
What I did this weekend: pedicure, manicure, hair cut and colored, picked up cleaning, retrieved skirt from tailors, picked up repaired vintage watch at jewelers, had dinner with in-laws, spent sleepless night hating hair color and Googling COLORING HAIR AFTER HIGH LIFT COLOR, took kids to the zoo, found a new colorist and said FOR THE LOVE OF GOD PLEASE FIX THIS, had hair colored (again), cleaned house, watched Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets with the kids, went to dinner with family, stopped to look at new better hair color every ten minutes all afternoon.
I’m exhausted.
The hair! Oh god the hair. A while back, you will remember, I had a little pre-midlift crisis (is it REALLY a midlife crisis if I’m not 40 yet? I think not) and colored my own hair. And then regretted coloring my own hair and swore a Solemn Oath to NEVER color my own hair ever again.
Funny, and entirely true, side story: after the Great Color Debacle of 2007, my mom e-mailed me to say GO TO A STYLIST FOR GOD’S SAKE (okay, my mom doesn’t say FOR GOD’S SAKE, but she meant it). After all, she said, she had been having her hair professionally colored since she was in her 20s. And then she reminded me that once, when we were kids, my brother asked her what her REAL color was. And she said, “I had no idea.”
ANYway, since I’m going to Chicago this week, I decided to treat myself to a Day of Beauty and Pampering. Mani, pedi, hair, the works. My toenails are a tres hip black, my fingernails a very subtle pink, and my hair, by the end of the day, was a horrific brassy orange.
JUST LIKE WHEN I DID IT MYSELF. But more blond, I guess. Sort of. Also more expensive, but that’s neither here nor there.
I was quite honestly sick about it, which KILLS me because it’s HAIR after all, not world peace, but every time I walked near a shiny surface I would think GODDAMMIT I HATE THAT HAIR. And honest to god, I got up in the middle of the night and started consulting the Internet to see what my options were.
The consensus was recolor, but NOT ON MY OWN. Professionally. Which would be a piece of cake on a Sunday, you know, finding an open salon. But I was desperate and desperate times call for desperate measures and all that, so I hauled myself out to the Duncan Brothers Salon at Quail Springs Mall, where the very lovely Roseanne returned me to a much more interesting version of my original color and reassured me repeatedly that not only did my hair look pretty good but that fixing the color would be a piece of cake. It took everything I had not to kiss her on the lips when she was finished, but instead I overtipped her and swore that I would come back the next time I want to color my hair.
And I totally will.
So now I am most distinctly a brunette, with a little auburn thing going on which is a little odd for me because I’ve spent my entire life thinking of myself as a blond. (Of course, I have also spent my entire life feeling a little startled when people referred to me as “smart” so maybe the end of blond is a good thing.) And I have amended my original Solemn Oath not to color my hair myself to include finding a really terrific colorist to do it FOR me from now on. And having regular manicures and pedicures because I’m completely delighted with the way my nails look today and there’s NO way for anyone to screw THAT up. Is there?
Posted by Susan @ 6:48 pm • Uncategorized
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July 22nd, 2007 at 8:03 pm, Veronica Says:
I remember coloring my own hair once when I was home on break from college. My father saw my hair and started laughing, then looked deeply apologetic when my mother explained that the color was permanent. We still refer to that hair mistake as “The Ink Blot.”
I feel for you. I’m glad it all worked out.
July 22nd, 2007 at 8:35 pm, Undercover Mutha Says:
Your toenails are black? Really? I want pictures.
When I read you went through a midlift crisis, I thought, “Oh no she did not go out and get some plastic surgery.”
You are too beautiful (and sane) for that, my dear.
July 22nd, 2007 at 8:41 pm, Susan Says:
My toenails ARE black! And I lurve them.
And hell to the no on the plastic surgery. I nearly had a nervous breakdown about the bad hair, which was totally fixable–no way am I letting anyone mess with my actual anatomy. Good lord.
I have, however, discovered the Best Face Cream EVER, which I will tell you all about soon. Promise.
July 23rd, 2007 at 8:57 am, Janssen Says:
Oh, I’ve been hating my hair all weekend (for it’s lack of being cut). . . I’m GOING to get my haircut this weekend.
July 23rd, 2007 at 9:29 am, Irene Says:
I used to color my hair in highschool, but it was shades of blue and purple on purpose. After a bad run in with SunIn and living with orangutan orange hair for a year, I decided never NEVER to color my hair. “It will grow out” is not a comforting thing to hear.
July 23rd, 2007 at 11:01 am, Karyn Says:
So where is the photo of this fabulous hair? (Since you PROBABLY didn’t take a snap of the less-than-fabulous hair.)
You’re always lovely.
July 23rd, 2007 at 11:21 am, Susan Says:
I suspect that BlogHer will be one long photo session, Karyn, so I’m saving my Picture Face for then. Also, I am not supposed to wash the New Brown Hair until Tuesday, so it’s looking less than stellar today (good color, not so good style).
And no, there are NO photos of the Before Hair. Oh no.
July 23rd, 2007 at 6:15 pm, Karianna Says:
How will we recognize you at BlogHer without a pic, though? I’ve only seen you in pics as a blonde…
My stylist RAN OUT ON ME* today, so I am colored but not cut.
*Her son had a biking accident.
July 29th, 2007 at 4:00 pm, Kristie Says:
I linked over to your page from Chris’, and was reading, and enjoying … then came to the part about Quail Springs Mall, at which point I about spit out my Diet Dr. Pepper, because I used to WORK at Quail Springs Mall! And just took my daughter to see Nancy Drew at the theater there two weeks ago! And spent way too much money on Clinique at Dillards!
I actually live in Georgia now, and for another six months, with my military husband, but we were home (Bethany) on vacation.
And we’re moving back there at Christmas … so hey, maybe I’ll bump into you at the mall sometime.
Small world, eh?
PS. Great, you’re thinking, a stalker. I swear, I’m not.