Wednesday, September 24, 2008


So last weekend, before the winds came through and wiped out the local power, I went to the local beauty school to get a haircut. I was looking for a change, and I would have let the sister I live with cut it, as she normally does a perfectly fine job, but she said that as it had grown out a lot, a pro probably needed to do it this time first, and then she could follow their lead next time.

If you're on a slim budget, beauty schools are a good deal if you're looking for a cheap haircut. Generally you come out looking good, too, because the head haircutting teachers won't let the students ruin you.

So there I was, and this very nice young woman starts cutting my hair. And after a while she asks, "Have you ever colored your hair?" And I wonder if she can see my seven gray hairs. "Yeah, at one time it was almost strawberry blonde, and I've had streaks put in before." Not too long after that, the head teacher lady comes by, and ruffling through my locks asks, "Have you ever put some color in your hair? I love browns- this would look great with an auburn tone." My student continues cutting, and I comment that my crazy waves are going every which direction; without help they do have a mind of their own. And she says, "That's what flat irons and all that jazz are for. Do you own a flat iron?" And I say no, though it might be a worthwhile investment. "Yes," she says. "You must get a flat iron."

As she starts wrapping things up with her own flat iron, and my hair is looking pretty nice, she's getting comfortable with me: "Have you ever worn makeup?" And I don't have the heart to tell this lady whose business it is to make me look good that I'm a nun, though she might have guessed as much if she noticed the big Benedictine medal around my neck, under the cape. "Yes, I used to," I grin, " I kind of gave it up out of a simple living choice." Thoughtful silence. I could tell that this polished young lady could not comprehend how an otherwise marriageable looking young woman in Louisville would not be flat ironing her highlighted hair and wearing makeup.

As she brushes off the hair from my shoulders, I thank her for the wonderful cut. "You're so welcome!" she says, double checking to see that she didn't miss anything. "And next time you're here, let's put in some color. And get a flat iron... And you really should wear some makeup."

No comments:

Post a Comment