Hair Horror Story
After wearing my hair in braids for the winter, I decided that todayI would remove the braids and change my hair style. About six weeks ago my stylist of fifteen years had braided my hair in a fantastic curly braid that was shoulder length. With the weather getting warmer, I decided that I would change for a style that would keep my head cooler. I was going to straighten my hair so that I could wear it in a pony tail. I made a visit to my hair stylist as I will be attending an award dinner on Saturday night. Little did I know that I was about to have my first horrifying hair experience.
My stylist soon discovered that the braids could not be separated because the bonding glue that she used to prevent the ends from unravelling had permanently glued my hair. She tried several ways to remove the darn thing, but it was stuck. What are you going to do now?" I asked after she had made several failed attempts of separating the braids. She had the look of defeat in her eyes and immediately I knew what she was thinking... She had to cut the braids off. For those who know about sisters and their hair, then you will understand the seriousness of the situation. I had plans to sweep my hair up in a pony tail which is fairly low maintenance. This idea was shot to hell. All kinds of thoughts went through my mind. Thoughts of not getting my hair done at this salon ever again. Of how I was going to hate my short hair, mostly because there aren't alot of options with short hair. How much time I will have to spend on my hair daily to ensure it didn't looked like I just got out of bed. Needless to say, I was not happy and I told my stylist so.
She was very apologetic, but that did not make me feel any better. I thought, do I really want to sever fifteen years of great service over one loosey mishap? After all, she had been styling my hair with great outcome for so long. She had done my hair for my graduations, my wedding and so many occassions. I took a deep breath and utter the words: "cut it off". It was too late now I could not change my mind, I didn't see another option unless I was going to keep the braids in forever. "You know I hate you righ now?" I asked.
She took up the pair of scissors and she started to snip. I closed my eyes. This was too much. I was thinking " Corella Deville, stop! stop!". It felt like she was cutting off all the hair on my head. I thought about being bald. For all those people with bald heads, Kudos to you as you can pull it off, not me. "Stop!" I said out loud.
"Do you want me to stop now? I have cut almost a quarter of your hair." My stylist replied surprised or was it disgust?
"Give me a minute", I almost screamed.
My stylist looked disappointed and hurt. I needed the time to get use to the idea of the lost. My hair was all over the floor and in my lap. I took up a braid and slowly separated the synthetic hair from my own hair which was almost the same length, about twelve inches. I remembered that about a year and a half after the birth of my son, the ends of my hair started to thin and break. I had cut it low on several occassions to allow it to grow back stronger and thicker. I had been growing my hair for the last two years. I had worn weaves and braids to protect my hair and allowed it to grow and now it was thicker and stronger. I was about to wear my hair straight or in a pony tail whenever I choose. Now I had none of those options.
After a minute or two, she resumed cutting off the rest of the damaged hair along with the braids. I had an afro, about 3 inches high. The last time I had seen my head with such short hair was about 2 years. This was going to take some getting use to. As usual, my stylist worked her magic on the remainder of my hair and I left her hair salon, feeling that maybe it was ok to cut it all off. My hair looked modern and sassy.
After stocking up on some hair products, including a small ceramic flat iron, I was on my way to liking the new do. Disaster averted or was it?