Worst. Haircut. Ever.

Technically this all went down on Saturday, and I debated whether or not to write about it, but since I’m pretty sure it was the most awkward haircut in the history of mankind, I felt I should commemorate it.

So, All I wanted was shorter bangs.  To be honest, I was pretty sure I could do it myself, but why risk it?  So, I made an appt at a very reputable, fairly expensive salon.  I thought it would be a nice relaxing experience!  A treat for myself, you know?  I also grabbed my White House Black Market gift card and just decided to make a day of it.

I find the salon easily enough and then I wait.  And wait… and wait… and wait… and finally the stylist gets there.  Like a half hour late.  I’m immediately disappointed because all of the other stylists are all cool and trendy and mine… is not.  Her hair is long and dirty and her highlights are orange.  Not like funky-orange, but like “I have black hair and tried to bleach parts of it and it didn’t turn out well.”  Nonetheless, I tell her I want Audrey Hepburn bangs and show her 3 pictures.  (It may be wishful thinking, but I’ve always thought I bear an ever-so-slight resemblance to Audrey, and they looked fab on her, so why not me??)  She crinkled up her nose and said “Um… who is she, like an actress or something?”  UGH.  Really??  Anyway, these are the 3 pics I showed her.

It’s simple.  I want short, choppy bangs that can be side swept.

Anyway, she looks a little concerned, as if I’ve just asked her to give me a mullet.  So I asked “Has anyone ever asked you to cut really short bangs before?  I know they’re not exactly ‘in’ right now.” …  “Well, I had one lady who had gotten really drunk and done it herself and I had to fix them.”

Awesome.  We’re off to a great start.

So she takes me back to get shampooed.  “Sorry I’m late… my husband just left me.  Took all of his things and left me.”  OH. SHIT.  This won’t end well.  But what am I going to do?  Walk out with dripping wet hair, adding insult to injury?  I felt like she probably needed the money, and they’re just bangs after all.

Anyway, I explained that I currently had long bangs, but I hated how they fell in my eyes so I just wanted them really short (again: like the freaking pictures).  She proceeds to take about half of my existing bangs and cut them just below my eyebrows, in a blunt cut.  “Like this?”  “No.  They’re still in my eyes.”  So she goes 1/8” shorter.  “Like this?”  “No…”   The icing on the cake was when “Someone like you” by Adele came on and she started crying as I just sat there awkwardly.    UGH.  (Before I sound like a heartless bitch, she explained that they weren’t technically married, but they had been together since she was 12, and they had a kid together, and they had a lot of fights but he’d never taken his stuff before, etc.  I definitely got the impression that this chick is a hot mess most of the time, I just happened to catch her on an exceptionally dramatic day.)

Interestingly enough, while I was sat there, some other lady brought around “complimentary magazines” (mostly advertisements – clearly published by the salon itself) for everyone.  They had a big spread on Audrey Hepburn and her iconic hairstyles.

After another half hour of her making my bangs minutely shorter over-and-over again, coating my face with hair dust each time, I just gave up and told her it was fine.  2 other women were waiting to see her anyway since she was a half hour late to start me.  I tipped her very well, even though I looked like shit.  I kind of felt bad for her.  Kind of.

Instead of Audrey Hepburn, I looked like this.

I had hoped it would grow on me, but I was literally cringing every time I saw my reflection.  So on Sunday, I went to Supercuts to see if they could fix it.  The stylist (who barely spoke English and yet DID know who Audrey Hepburn was, thankyouverymuch) took one look at the picture and knew how to fix them.   3 minutes later and they were exactly what I wanted!  For $12!  That’s it – screw salon/spa’s from here on out.  Supercuts it is.

Sure, I'm still no "Audrey Hepburn", but I'm not "Lime Helmet Cat" either... and that's what counts.