Effortless Imperfection

Recently, and out of nowhere, several strangers have complimented me on the depth of my hair color.* While I appreciate them, these accolades surprise and amuse me for a few reasons. The first is that I pretty much wing it when it comes to selecting where to place highlights, so for them to turn out looking normal is quite a feat. That their arrangement creates the illusion of depth in my thin, fine hair is borderline-miraculous.

The second reason is that my hair-coloring routine is worse than amateur. It takes a good 2.5-3 hours to do four foils and one all-over color. The foils are a complete joke: clumsily folded, bulky, and I’ll be honest, sometimes I actually use Reynolds instead of Spilo. It’s sturdier.

After the application and processing time, of course, comes rinsing, shampoo, conditioner, and ph-balancing lotion. Then I apply a demi-permanent color to the hair that was just highlighted, to even out the blond and soften the shade. That has to process for another 35 minutes, after which comes more rinsing, cleaning, conditioning, and balancing. At this point we’re going on about four hours of time spent on changing the color of my hair.

I justify the time and effort I devote to coloring my hair in terms of money. The supplies I buy online are staggeringly inexpensive compared to what’s available at drug stores and to what it costs for color at a salon. And the color and developer I buy are professional grade, unlike the boxed coloring systems at Walgreens.

I realize that salon prices factor in the speed with which the colorist works as well as her or his skill. The ambiance of the salon is also something to consider, as is the fact that someone else does all the work, and there is no clean-up afterward. Still, at this point in my life, the value of these features is significantly less than $120, which is about the going rate for a couple of highlights and one or two all-over colors. So, every once in awhile, I spend a Tuesday evening or Saturday afternoon in the bathroom, painting my head and hoping for the best.

*Depth not well-represented in photos. Sorry.

So, I’m sitting at my computer, enjoying a heathy pour of 2-Buck-Chuck, and I look in the mirror.

“Boy, I could really use a haircut,” I think to myself.

After slurping down the last of my fine vino, I decide to give it a go. After all, what better time to go at your head with sharp objects, than after a large dose of judgment-impairing alcohol? Right?

And now I have a drunk haircut.

I’ve always had an interest in hair cutting and coloring, and my friends and I used to cut and dye each others hair all the time, starting in about 7th grade. I cut my own hair for awhile in high school, too.

A couple of years ago, I started cutting and coloring my own hair again. I figured that it would save a lot of money, especially if I bought professional hair color online, instead of using the crappy, expensive stuff that comes in a box for home hair coloring.

Now, though, compared to when I was in high school, my hair is very short and it’s a bit difficult to cut. I have to use a couple of mirrors and it usually doesn’t turn out exactly how I want it to. It’s still way cheaper than having it done professionally, but it takes a really long time. Also, I hate cleaning up all the hair. I’ve thought about going to school to become certified as a stylist, but I’m pretty sure you have to become a certified aesthetic practitioner or something, which involves beauty-related areas other than just hair. At this age, I don’t know if it makes sense to start something like that.

I’ve begun to wonder if the shape of a person’s head changes over time. I feel like it’s much harder now than it was a few years ago to achieve the cut that I want, whether I’m cutting it myself or having it done professionally. Even when I bring pictures of myself with the haircut that I want with me to the salon, it doesn’t seem to turn out looking the same. Maybe my face, and not my head shape, has changed, and that’s what’s making the difference.