After having tried and failed twice in the last year to get my hair done abroad, you’d think I’d have learned by now. But also having spent only five days on home soil in the last seven months, I didn’t have much of a choice but to book another appointment when abroad. This time, in France.
I would have waited until I going home after the summer, but I was going back for a weekend in July for a special family celebration. There wouldn’t be any time to get my hair done that weekend, but I wanted it to be done for the party. Looking back, it would have been worth waiting until after the summer to go to my usual than spending €60 on nothing. When I say that, I literally mean nothing. Explanation below.
I remember thinking to myself, okay really explain exactly how you want it this time. No communication errors. You got this. I even showed her a picture! The photo below is what I showed her for comparison. That’s the general idea I was going for.
The hairdresser said she would be able to do it for me – a good start! It really was a good start, as I’ve been told many times that what I want isn’t possible because of hair being naturally so dark. Unfortunately, the minute she started I got a bad feeling. I’ve watched enough hairdressers mess with my hair enough times to know when they’re doing it well or not. This is probably where I could have stepped in and said something. But there’s something about complaining to hairdressers that is so intimidating. Is it just me?! I didn’t want to offend her, and it’s not like I’m an expert in the art of hair dyeing.
So the final result isn’t as terrible as I seem to be building it up to be. My bad feeling had nothing to do with her technique or the way she put in the highlights. However, I can safely say it was still a waste of money. Strangely the aspect she got wrong isn’t something that’s usually a problem I have with hairdressers…the roots didn’t catch! My hair was still black at the top. In other words, I paid to have my hair look almost exactly the same as it did before. Not bad, but not any different.
The worst part of all this is that the hairdresser didn’t even acknowledge this very obvious blunder. Maybe she was hoping I would be too afraid to complain. Well if so, she was right (annoyingly). As I said above, there’s something about complaining to a hairdresser which is very difficult. I’m almost more annoyed at myself than her for not saying anything. Almost. I’m still annoyed at her.
I suppose it is a lesson to be learned. Maybe I’m cursed? Maybe I should speak up. But I’m going to forget all that for now, as I’m at the end of my year abroad. As sad as I am about that, I can happily go back to my regular hairdressers without worrying about if they’ll understand me or do something I don’t like. Foreign hairdressers, it’s been a blast. I’m not going to miss you!