Friday, Oct. 11, 2002 - 2:32 p.m.
Forgive me, hairstylist, for I have not been trimmed. It has been three weeks since my last haircut.
Tonight I will do something I have wanted to do for a long time. I will go out and get a real haircut. No more of this namby-pamby ten dollar Great Clips shit for me. I will go out to the mall and spend no less than twenty bucks on a haircut, and it's going to look good. I will be in the chair for more than the usual ten minutes. I will be catered to. If something doesn't look right, I will have them correct it.
Because life is too short to walk around with bad hair.
Does anyone remember when MTV's House of Style was in its heyday? My first semester at UK, I didn't find a job and was totally broke. I refused to ask my parents for money, which is still a pet peeve of mine. Thus, I lived completely off my diner account, eating two meals a day and spending all my time in my dorm room. How does this relate to House of Style? Be patient, I'm getting there.
I was up late one Friday night flipping through the channels, when I caught one of Todd Oldham's features on the show. He was telling me how the "look" that year was the "haphazard, intentionally messy" look, which was best achieved through cutting your own hair. So, there I was, on a Friday night in my room alone. Of course, I decided that would be the best time to give myself a makeover.
I grabbed a pair of scissors out of my desk drawer, went into the bathroom across the hall, threw a towel on the floor and started cutting away in front of the mirror. It started with a few snips on the sides. Then the top. Then some blind cutting at the back. Then I chopped some more off the top.
In short, the look wasn't exactly what I expected. But I convinced myself that I looked hot. I slapped some gel in my hair on Monday morning, left the dorm with my hair held high, and went to the dreaded Russian folklore class (remind me to pass that story on someday).
Kellie shared that class with me and was already sitting waiting for me when I got there. And, being the trooper she is, she looked at me and said something to the effect of "Your hair... it looks... GOOD!"
She's so good at lying sometimes.
Long story short, I chopped my own hair for about two months. When I finally got the cash to pay for a haircut (after my first paycheck from my job at the Phonathon), the woman cutting my hair slapped me on the back of the head and promised me I would NEVER try that again.
Fuck Todd Oldham. Even though I just bought one of his shower curtains at Target.
Of course, the next year at Patterson, Shelley and I cut each other's hair once. As I recall, her stylist reacted the same way as mine the next time she got a cut.
So, I'm getting a good haircut. And I absolutely can't wait.
