If you think back way before your turkey coma set in, you’ll recall that two weeks ago, I kicked off a brand new series round these parts called Spa Stories, where we’re going to share various close encounters of the beauty salon kind. Now I’m back with the next installment, courtesy of reader Gina in Boston, MA. But first, a little clarification, so you can get your submission all ready for me.
What this series will NOT be: A place to rant about the hair stylist who cut three inches when you totally said one. Or the manicurist who filed you square when you clearly indicated oval. Or insert similar tales-of-customer-service-woe here.
What this series WILL be: A place to share how your relationship with beauty (your own or other people’s) evolves when you spend time in a salon or spa. And by “you,” I mean consumers, sure — as you’ll see from Gina in a second. But I’m also talking to you, salon workers. If you read the comments on my Slate story, you’ll see a lot of folks feeling highly anxious about what to tip and why it took me two hours to do all that waxing. It’s one thing for me to keep regaling y’all with Beauty U tip stories, but clearly, I cannot speak for the whole industry! So hair stylists, estheticians, nail techs — I want your stories here.
And when I say “stories,” this can be an epic saga spanning years (like Gina), a quick life-observed moment from a comment made by a client last Tuesday, the tale of your first brush with waxing and other extreme beauty sports, or… You get it. Email it to me at beautyschooledproject [at] gmail [dot] com.
Now here’s Gina:
I’ve had similar issues at salons. The last time I had a blow out, the stylist kept complaining because I have a lot of fine hair so it takes awhile to get it all dry. While I looked great, it was tough to tip someone who huffed and sighed throughout the service.
My regular stylist is awesome though. She’s always wary of cutting off too much or putting in highlights that she knows I don’t really want. (My husband, mother, and mother-in-law all convinced me to go blonder for the wedding.)
Gina’s post is the story of my hair-cutting, salon-visiting life. I go in, feel that the cut or style is adequate but not up to my standards, and come home and re-do it. Or at least touch it up. My senior year in high school, I went in for a styling before prom. I didn’t have in mind exactly what I wanted, and the stylist convinced me that a severe pull back with a duck-ass in the back would be an excellent choice. I came home and washed all the hair spray out and had to start from scratch, in a last-minute panic because my date was soon to arrive. Anyway, I find it so hard to speak up for myself in these situations, mostly because a hairdresser’s work feels so personal–like she is sharing part of herself with me. And I tend to take responsibility for lots of things in this world, including the feelings of my stylist. Now I go to someone I love (which means she’s better able to interpret my vague wishes or read my mind) so it’s less of an issue. This means that I can never move (and she can never move or retire).
Dana: A) You speak the truth. B) “Severe pull back with a duck-ass in the back” made me laugh so hard I snorted my seltzer. Amazing! Why on earth wouldn’t you love that look?!
I found myself quietly cheering inside by the time I got toward the end. Brava to you for finally speaking up for yourself/your hair/you wants for your hair. There is a fine line between trusting your beauticians expertise and surrendering to them.
Not sure why it is so hard to speak up for ourselves, but whereas once upon a time I went home from hair appointments only to REDO my hair after knowing IN THE CHAIR that I hated it, now things are different. Well, I have a very happy salon marriage now and they know what makes me happy but if I ever have a substitute I am not afraid to speak my mind.
I guess it takes time. Here’s to us now/new and improved. 🙂
Great story. And great series VA! xoxo
YES. I am afraid to hurt my hairdressers feelings. The woman I am with now is responsible for fixing the “crooked chop” I received 11 years ago when I spoke up to my former hairdresser….I waited hours after the cut and had a mini panic attack before I actually called her back and told her she messed up. So, I changed course and found a great hairdresser through my young daughters friends mom. I’ve been going to her ever since and consider her a confidant/therapist/semi-friend. She actually has almost always given me a really good cut/color that I’m happy with. I can honestly say the few times when it wasn’t ” quite right” I didn’t think it was worth saying anything because my feeling is “who gets it right all of the time anyway?”
Nobody’s perfect… I’m happy. Now, if she can just get my 40ish hair thicker, stronger and with tons of volume!!! I miss the 80’s!!!
Why IS it so hard? I had a headshot taken a couple of years ago and scheduled a blowout at an unfamiliar salon beforehand. My goal: Sleek but not stick-straight hair, which tends to just look flat on me. Basically, blowdry it with a round brush. Thanks. When this woman finished with me, I looked like I was about to compete in a beauty pageant in 1989. HUGE, bouncy hair. I saw it happening, and I didn’t say a word. “It’ll lose volume later,” I said. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as I think it is,” I said. I paid her, tipped her, and then spent the next half hour with a spray bottle of water and my own hair dryer, trying to fix the damage. It was ludicrous.
Why didn’t I speak up? Maybe because I hoped that a Manhattan stylist wouldn’t think ANYONE would want the hair that she gave me. I told her I was having professional photos taken. Maybe she got confused? I have no idea. But next time I’ll definitely say something, because honestly, that was absurd.
Maybe we’re more reluctant to speak up over a sandwich than a haircut because we view the hairstylist’s work as a kind of artistry. I wouldn’t feel bad about telling the kid at Subway they forgot my black olives, but if an award-winning chef made me a dish she told me was going to be “amazing” and spent a half-hour preparing it – I’d feel kinda guilty pulling out the anchovies in her presence.
Also, a big part of what many people like about spa experiences is the chatty relationship aspect. When you expect the stylist to care about your life and thoughts, you create a situation in which you also care about what he or she thinks and feels. It’s a byproduct of introducing emotion into the experience — which I promise you, my brother doesn’t do with his barber.
YES! I’ve been searching for the perfect boring straight bob for the past decade or so, and never with the same hairstylist twice! It’s so HARD to just say, “Super! But…angled more?” or, “Awesome! But…I asked for bangs?” I always assumed I was just some crazy neurotic super-politeness-disabled person. For me, it’s definitely about not wanting to insult someone’s work. I find myself absolutely unable to say anything other than, “Great job! I love it!” And the chatty-friendly aspect of most salons definitely makes it harder to speak up, for me, too. If this person was just a hired technician, I could say, “The wire should go there!” but if they’re my GIRLFRIEND giving me a lady-makeover, then I feel like I can’t correct them.
In college, I got a haircut at one of those cheap supercuts-type places. I asked for a bob (I can’t remember if it was a trim or a big change; this was ten years ago). The lady cut one side and the other, and I was looking in the mirror, and after awhile I got up the courage to say, “I think it’s uneven.” She kind of fluffed it and said, “No no, it’s equal, it’s fine.” I didn’t know what to say after that and sat there stewing for the rest of the cut. I had that awful pit in my stomach, feeling helpless. I still felt the need to tip, too, even though I mostly felt that someone who cuts your hair UNEVENLY and then DENIES it may not actually deserve a tip.
Speaking up was difficult and it didn’t even help! And I walked around for months with one hank of hair longer than the other–and not in that post-modern on-purpose way either!