A misfit blogger. Living in the clouds, looking down on a 'forever halloween' kind of world.

My Hair Horror Story💇🙀 (plus the unicorn frap)

Let me tell you a story about a girl named Lucky…

Except her name wasn’t lucky because it was about ME and I literally could not have been less lucky in this particular situation!

I disgress.

It was a rainy Wednesday morning, I had grabbed a vanilla latte from Brown Dog Cafe and was heading to my hair appointment for 11:30.

Little did I know, I would be spending the next 12 hours… at the hair salon.

Today was also the day that Starbucks came out with the new Unicorn Drink—but we’ll get back to that later.

So, I sit down for my tri-monthly hair appointment, and we’re doing something a little different today. The plan was to have a titanium-steel grey on the top, that faded into a violet purple on the bottom.

Sounds pretty cool right? Some fairy vibes, some berry vibes… I was very-much down for the Zenon hair.

So we apply the product like usual, and the unthinkable happens.
The product simply doesn’t stick.

Picture yourself trying to feed a baby, and your shoving the spoon in their mouth and they won’t eat.
My hair is the baby in this situation.

It just didn’t take the colour.
I don’t know if my hair was mad at me for dying it so much in the past that it just decided to rebel?
Not sure.

So I’m sitting in the salon (which I’ve now been here for 3 hours), with grey, yellow, brown, witch hair that looked like I dumped a bucket of purple kool aid on my head.

Not a good look.

We didn’t know what happened, we just knew we had to fix it.
So after much deliberation about what the HELL to do with my hair … I kind of lost it.

One of the other hair dressers at the salon had ran next door to the beauty supply to get a different colour purple for my hair hoping it would work… but returned with the wrong colour.

When my hairdresser went to return it—the beauty supply was closed (because I’ve now been here basically the whole day)

I didn’t want to leave looking like that witch who almost eats Johnny Depp’s face in Sleepy Hollow, so I knew we had to do something.

“Just bleach it. Just Bleach it all out’ I proclaimed.

Little did I know- this would be the beginning of the end.

I walk over to the sink to have my hair bleached, and as its being done, my hair dresser calls another girl over and says ‘do you know why hair is doing this?’

UM SORRY?
DOING WHAT?
IS IT FALLING OUT?
AM I GOING BALD?
DO I NEED TO SHAVE MY HEAD?
WHAT IS HAPPENING, I AM A HUMAN TOO.

One of the girls finishes analyzing my hair and says to me, ‘Are you on any medications?’

My heat drops to my ass.

What is so terrible about my hair that you think medication is causing it to go crazy?

I’m fucked.

When my hair dresser finishes, she wraps it in a towel and walks me over to the mirror.

At this point all I smell is bleach, my scalp feels like I’ve rubbed it with sand paper, and I just want to crawl in bed and not come out.

She takes the towel off my head.
And I burst into uncontrollable tears.

In front of everyone.
Like a really ugly, loud, snot cry.

I officially look like a crytstal- meth addict/80s band member who is about to vomit all over the hair appliances.
Hot. Pink. Roots.
Please try not to laugh at my mid break down pictures– it was a devastating time.

 

Has anyone ever had an experience like that? Like I can’t possibly describe how it feels.
When it’s YOUR hair, and you’re like, this is me… I have to wear this… Can it be fixed? It simply cannot be fixed. I have to chop it all off.

I sent pictures to Andy and his reaction was one tablespoon compassion, a cup of ‘oh my dear god’, and a pinch of ‘omg.. is my girlfriend going to look like this now?’ (which he tried to hide).

My hairdresser was reassuring me that we are going to fix it, and that she won’t let me leave here without pretty hair.
I always leave her with pretty hair.

But I can’t hear her… because there is this ‘WON WON’ buzz surrounding my head. Like in a movie, where someone realizes they did something awful and all the other sounds around them sound like the adults in Charlie Brown.

Once I was able to calm myself down, we started talk strategy.
I got a big lesson on primary colours and what it takes to neutralize pink – none of which I can remember now because I wasn’t really fully present for the lesson…

Long story short- we decided on purple for the ‘problem solver’.
You need pink to make purple… so if we cover it with purple it will neutralize the pink and all will be good in the world.

I’d had purple hair before, so I was fine with this option.
At this point I would have done anything that made me look better than what I had.

I’ll save you the process that followed… but we dyed my hair purple.
Props to my hair dressor for winning the battle against my stubborn strands. They put up a good fight.

Now it’s time to talk about the Unicorn Frap.
Because my hair had residues of pink still left over, I was left with a really pretty pinky/purple colour that had a shocking resemblance to the Unicorn Frappuccino (which had just been released that day).

Was Unicorn hair my destiny?
Did all of this happen for a reason?

This- I do not know.
What I do know is that my hair is slowly starting to rebel against me, and if I don’t make up my mind on a permanent colour soon, I’m afraid all my strands will just pack up and leave me for someone more decisive.



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