I recently had an amazing stylist give me a new haircut. It wasn't what I had in mind when I went in, but she and I talked through some ideas, and I went with her suggestion. Best decision ever. I love my hair now! But this good experience reminded me of the worst stylist ever. I posted about that experience in my personal journal before I was a member of this community (almost two years ago), so I have all the details documented.
Okay, so at the time this happened, I had straight, non-layered, below-waist-length brown hair. I wore it in a bun or clipped up every day to keep it from becoming a huge tangled mess, so I was used to walking into salons for a trim, taking the clip out, and having stylists stare at me with a Holy crap long hair is loooooong! expression. It never really bugged me until this guy. Most stylists gave up after one or two comments about how long my hair was, but dude wouldn't shut up about it. Every second thing out of his mouth was something like "I can't believe your hair is this long!", "I could never live with hair this long!", "Oh my god, I would go crazy if I had hair this long!". On and on. He even brought over a few co-workers to gawk at my hair, which was uncomfortable.
Seriously, it wasn't insanely long. I have friends with hair that length, and have seen pictures of longer. It was probably four inches below my waist. You'd think hairdressers, who work with hair all day, would have seen long hair before...
Slowly, his disbelief at how long my hair was turned into bitching about how hard it was to comb and how much it tangled. He was using a tiny, fine-toothed metal comb and kept rubbing in this sticky "anti-frizz" stuff that only made the tangling worse. Yeah, long hair tangles, but it was never this bad for me at home, because I wasn't dumb enough to pack it full of styling products before it was combed! Ugh. I don't want to think about how much of my hair he ripped out with that comb.
THEN he started bitching about how long hair was so frumpy and why on earth didn't I want to look totally HAWTTT by getting an edgy new pixie cut dyed platinum blond? Three times he said something like, "I just want to chop all this off and give you a brush cut!" when I'd gone in for a trim. It annoyed me so much that no matter how many times I tried to laugh it off and remind him that I liked my hair how it was, he wouldn't shut up about how dowdy and boring it was. Also, the color was mousy. Brown hair? Who wants dumb old brown hair when you can be blond? He would just love to cut it all off and dye it blond, with some trendy spikes! (No thanks. I'd been blond up until a few months before this haircut, but then I got lazy and didn't want to keep up with dying the roots every few weeks so I went back to something closer to my natural color. Despite what the media think, some women are okay with having brown hair and even like it!)
At the very end, he styled it with the straightening iron and said, "There, now you could be in a shampoo commercial!" which made me feel a little better. Until he added with a snarky laugh, "If your hair was all one color." (Because I'd only recently done my hair brown over the blond, parts of it were a bit darker or lighter in weird ways at this point.) This is when I really wanted to punch him in the face. I'd sat through almost an hour of his bitching and whining only to be insulted at the end. Super awesome!
No other stylist has ever managed to make me feel ugly and stupid for just getting a trim. Because we all go to the salon so we can feel uglier and stupider afterwards, amirite?
In hindsight, I should've complained to the salon manager. But I kept putting it off and then forgot. Though the day after the haircut, I did remember something that made me feel a little better. I thought the stylist looked familiar, but I couldn't place him. Then I remembered he was the older brother of a friend of mine... who once came out to the bar with us, got wasted, and made a total ass of himself before throwing up all over her car. So the guy is two for two in my bad memory books! When you're pissed off at somebody, it's nice to have that mental image of them passing out in a parking lot, covered in their own vomit. I laughed so hard when I remembered that.