A VERY, very bad hair day
|Let me premise this post with the fact that I have naturally dark blonde hair. Okay, dishwater blonde, if you will. Three times a year I go to the salon for a trim and a few strategically placed highlights to give me an overall "blonde" appearance. THIS time I was looking to do something new and exciting. I wanted a dark copper/red color on the underside of my hair with blonde and copper/red chunks highlights. Ya know, like EVERYBODY else is doing? When I tried to explain this to my hairdresser (who I had never gone to before because my beloved Megan up and moved to Oklahoma on me.) I should have known better. My new hairdresser had short hair. Big short hair. Short, big, and curly. And stiff. Extraordinarily stiff. Very short, big, curly and stiff. She had NO idea what I wanted and I did my best to explain it to her. Here's what I did NOT want:|
1) To look like Donatella Versace.
2) To have my hair, skin and teeth to be the same color.
3) Have a lovely "brassy" look.
4) To look like I threw a bottle of Miss Clairol on my hair and take it off half way during the bleaching process.
5) To have dark roots immediately after leaving the salon.
6) To spend an exorbitant amount of money to look orange.
Ya'll, I did NOT desire this. AT ALL.
Here's a photo of me taken the day before. Granted it's cheesy and stupid, but I'm trying out doos for my upcoming gallery show and I never, ever curl my hair. I was going for the Portia de Rossi look here. Can't you tell? BAHHHAHAHAHA
And another (even more cheesy. Very Glamshots, don't you agree?)
And this is the hideous monstrosity that I sport today:
I'm oh so monotone now. UGH.