About Me

My photo
I am a below knee amputee. More importantly, I am also Mommy to two boys, a very active 10 year old (Robby) and an mischievous toddler (Timmy). I have learned that being a parent with a disability can create some unusual and sometimes humorous situations. This blogger is available for hire! Let's talk and learn how a blog can expand your business.

Monday, May 16, 2011

Not So Stylish...

During the past 6 weeks I've worked hard and shed nearly 20 pounds so that I can look my best for my interview on the Discovery Channel show. Happier with my figure, I was thrilled that I dropped a pant size! Feeling confident, I knew that only thing left for me to address was my hair. I was in desperate need of a haircut and updated style.

Friday night was spent scouring the Internet, in search of the perfect hairstyle. I wanted something that exuded the "I'm a super hip, sexy hot Mommy" aura. I also knew that the style had to be easy to manage since I have absolutely no talent, and even less patience, when it comes to working with my hair. Finally, after a flurry of Facebook posts and emails, I thought that I found the perfect style.

Saturday morning Scott and Robby dropped me off at the salon. I opted to try a new establishment, which was both cheaper and more convenient. Trying some place new for such an important event was probably not my wisest decision. Unfortunately, hindsight is 20/20.

I met with my new stylist, Ava. She was nice and listened to me as I explained the upcoming television show and my desire to be a hipper, younger looking Mom. I then showed her my pictures, and she agreed that the style would look good.

After the style was decided, Ava continued to brush and examine my hair. She then suggested that I do something to address my "substantial" gray. I was caught off guard, but I agreed. After all, I certainly couldn't be the hip and sexy Mom with gray hair. Before I knew it, my hair was being painted for highlights and a new base color.

Sitting under the dryer, I felt nothing short of ugly with my hair folded into foil and the odoriferous dye saturating my locks. I tried to envision how fabulous I was going to look once the color was rinsed and my new haircut took shape. When that wasn't successful, I grabbed the nearest magazine and tried to pass the time.

Ava must have sensed my vulnerability because she went into salesperson mode. I was offered a manicure, pedicure and a massage. It was suggested that I have my pores minimized through a special salt facial. A mud wrap, I was told, would firm my thighs and backside.

She eventually recommended that I have my eye brows waxed, stating that she "almost dyed one of them because it was so long she thought it was part of my bangs." I declined the offer, even when she indicated that a discount would be provided. I smiled and looked down at my outdated magazine article in which the authors debated the possible designs of Kate Middleton's wedding dress.

Ava left me alone for about 10 minutes, but then approached me again. This time she lifted the dryer and bent down to whisper into my ear. "We have a dermatologist on call, My Dear. Would you like me to give him a call so that you can have a few Botox injections while your color sets? You really need to do something about all those creases; they make you look very very old and sad."

Sitting under the dryer, my scalp itching from the color and foils, I almost cried. I came into the salon for a simple haircut in order to accentuate my features and to celebrate my success losing weight. Instead, I learned that I look like an old lady with gray hair, large pores, bad nails, a jiggly bum, and woolly mammoth eyebrows who is desperately in need of Botox to minimize my wrinkles!

Ava must have sensed that she wasn't going to be scoring additional services because her affect drastically changed after I denied the Botox. She rinsed my hair and began cutting. She seemed angry.

On Saturday, I learned that I should never let a hairstylist cut my hair when they are angry with me! The style is nothing like the picture I presented. Instead of looking hip and sexy, I look as if I have a giant highlighted mushroom on top of my head.

Both my Mom and Scott have assured me that I do not look like a mushroom, but I'm not convinced. I find myself pulling on the ends in a fruitless attempt to make it grow by Tuesday! I'm hoping that I adjust to my new look and can feign confidence for the interview. (I am also fully aware that my distress over my hair could be misplaced anxiety for the interview.)

In the meantime, I bought make-up that promises to both fill in wrinkles and minimize pores. I've plucked my eyebrows, painted my nails and pulled my Spanx body slimmer out of my dresser. My head might look like a giant mushroom, but the rest of me will look good!

1 comment:

  1. Where exactly did you go? I wanna pay a visit to this salon and have a word or 2 with Ms Ava. Don't worry, I won't mention your name.