Ooh, GUUUUURL! I’ve shed many tears over my hair, but by far the worst waterworks occurred after one particularly bad haircut in the summer between third and fourth grade.
I needed a haircut, badly, so my mom took me to the neighborhood “Asian salon” (That’s what we called it because everyone who worked there was Asian, and everyone who went there was Asian… I guess we weren’t very creative at the time when it came to naming things.) at a nearby shopping mall.
I was a quiet kid, a people pleaser, so I usually did what was told without protest, which is what I did that day, even though I had a feeling sitting in the chair that things were about to go very wrong.
Wait! — I’m getting head of myself. Let me start at the beginning…
When we walked into the salon that day, I expected to get a quick trim of my Dorothy Hamill hair, which I’d been rockin’ since kindergarden.
I sat down expecting business as usual, and I was okay with that. I figured I’d leave with my standard bowl cut that turned all the boys’ heads, LOL! Totally joking. I was an odd-looking kid, far from the “pretty girl” of our class, whose name was Betina. Betina had straight, beautiful brown hair so long that whenever she sat down, it fell just beneath her butt.
Anywho! Back to the salon…
There must have been some miscommunication somewhere along the way because the stylist kept cutting and cutting, and my hair kept getting shorter and shorter. AND SHORTER.
I started to freak out a little in the chair but was too afraid to say anything until it was way too late.
When it was finally over, my hair looked exactly like Ralph Macchio’s from The Karate Kid. The same center part, same wings over the ears — everything.
It was awful.
When my mom and the stylist asked if I liked it, all smiling with glee, all I could do was nod, “yes,” because I didn’t know what to say. I was in shock.
After we left the salon, my mom drove us to a Hallmark store to get some cards, and while we were there, I saw a display of heart-shaped pins with girl names on them. I started looking for my name when the lady behind the counter said really loudly, “I’m sorry, honey, but those pins are only for girls, not boys.”
Aaaaand that’s when I lost my sh*t.
I started sobbing like a crazed animal! There was slobber and snot everywhere. I think I even foamed at the mouth.
After about 10 minutes, I’d calmed down enough to function. My mom and the Hallmark lady must’ve felt really badly because I got one of the heart-shaped pins for my shirt.
Didn’t exactly make up for my Ralph Macchio hair…but it was a cute pin.
How about you? Have you ever cried over a bad haircut?
Your friendly neighborhood beauty addict,