Things That Make You Go Hmmm
I had a hair appointment today. The first time I found this place it was by chance. I was working in a nearby neighborhood and remembered someone telling me about a place that was supposed to be very good so I took a chance, called, and they got me in right away. And The Girl that did my hair was awesome.
The thing that most impressed me about The Girl? She wore sneakers. I can hear the gasps in the background. And she's probably the best stylist there. Can you even find a hair stylist these days that doesn’t dress in all black and wear heels so high you have to wonder if they’re secretly waiting for a photo shoot? Maybe they’re all short, or the chairs don’t go low enough and they’re compensating in the name of fashion.
I try to imagine the internal dialogue - ‘Let’s see…I’ll be standing on my feet all day on hard wood or tile flooring for approximately 40 hours a week holding scissors and blow dryers and pouring chemicals and grooming other people’s hair for way too much money so let me slip into these pointy-toed four-inch high heels to make my days that much more enjoyable.
I could see in some professions where it’d be well worth it to wear high heels, but hair stylists?
I KNOW. They’re in the business of selling Beauty, but it looks to me like they’re selling PAIN. And I don’t want to see PAIN when I’m pampering myself with a haircut and highlights that I really can‘t afford.
I want to wallow peacefully in the only luxury I have left without hearing clip-clip-clip, clip-clip-clip, across the wooden floors the entire time. The Girl is silent when she walks. Actually, she glides, like an artistic angel with gold scissors in her hand and a glow around her that the others can't see.
And then during the customary stylist conversation, in which I have very little to say because sadly, there’s nothing going on in my life worth talking about, or nothing I want to share with a stranger or I could shatter your image of me by sharing stories about Hood Living…and, do you think it would be odd to walk in and state up front that there will be no talking except to discuss what I want done with my hair? How about we just talk about you and how great your life is? Yeah? Great.
Ahem.
During the customary stylist conversation she mentions her faith, and how she leaves things up to her Higher Being to guide her and there I sit thinking, “Hello Universe. I hear you.”
That’s my theme right now. The Universe sticking its head in my life, because I asked it to. I called and it came-a-running.
I don’t even like the cut and color I got today but it was worth it just to see The Girl, forging her own path, going against the grain with complete and honest confidence. And yeah, The Universe was right there with us.
The thing that most impressed me about The Girl? She wore sneakers. I can hear the gasps in the background. And she's probably the best stylist there. Can you even find a hair stylist these days that doesn’t dress in all black and wear heels so high you have to wonder if they’re secretly waiting for a photo shoot? Maybe they’re all short, or the chairs don’t go low enough and they’re compensating in the name of fashion.
I try to imagine the internal dialogue - ‘Let’s see…I’ll be standing on my feet all day on hard wood or tile flooring for approximately 40 hours a week holding scissors and blow dryers and pouring chemicals and grooming other people’s hair for way too much money so let me slip into these pointy-toed four-inch high heels to make my days that much more enjoyable.
I could see in some professions where it’d be well worth it to wear high heels, but hair stylists?
I KNOW. They’re in the business of selling Beauty, but it looks to me like they’re selling PAIN. And I don’t want to see PAIN when I’m pampering myself with a haircut and highlights that I really can‘t afford.
I want to wallow peacefully in the only luxury I have left without hearing clip-clip-clip, clip-clip-clip, across the wooden floors the entire time. The Girl is silent when she walks. Actually, she glides, like an artistic angel with gold scissors in her hand and a glow around her that the others can't see.
And then during the customary stylist conversation, in which I have very little to say because sadly, there’s nothing going on in my life worth talking about, or nothing I want to share with a stranger or I could shatter your image of me by sharing stories about Hood Living…and, do you think it would be odd to walk in and state up front that there will be no talking except to discuss what I want done with my hair? How about we just talk about you and how great your life is? Yeah? Great.
Ahem.
During the customary stylist conversation she mentions her faith, and how she leaves things up to her Higher Being to guide her and there I sit thinking, “Hello Universe. I hear you.”
That’s my theme right now. The Universe sticking its head in my life, because I asked it to. I called and it came-a-running.
I don’t even like the cut and color I got today but it was worth it just to see The Girl, forging her own path, going against the grain with complete and honest confidence. And yeah, The Universe was right there with us.
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