Three Wigs..and Counting

Right before the holidays, I decided to bite the bullet and find a place to get my hair cut here in Boston. I was really bummed when we moved, because I had found a girl in Lafayette that I loved and she always made my hair look fantastic. I knew when we moved that it would probably be a struggle to find someone that I really liked and had avoided it for several months. But, finally, my hair looked like a ragged mess, and I knew it was time to put my big girl britches on. Also, with everything costing so much around here I took to Groupon to help me narrow down my options. Maybe not the best choice since cheaper sometimes means very bad haircut, but I wanted to at least try, because if I could find somewhere less expensive and get a good haircut, it’d just make my life (at least my life while we’re living in Boston). Luckily, I found a Groupon at a salon super close to us for only $30 and decided to take it.

After I procrastinated some more on calling to schedule an appointment, I wavered between getting a trim and donating my hair. I’ve donated my hair in the past (twice), so I knew how much they would take off. I also thought about how the end of my hair was a little on the fried side and had decided going into the appointment that I would just get a few inches trimmed off, wait for my hair to grow back (hopefully, more healthy), then donate it. Then, my actual appointment came…

That morning I was still contemplating, but told Cade that I would just stick with the trim and donate it later. When I arrived, first, the girl was super nice and listened to what I have to say..point #1. She also offered me a drink, washed my hair, and gave me a couple minute scalp massage..points #2 and #3. Then, when I sat in the chair and we starting talking more about what cut I wanted she asked the question…have you thought about donating your hair? A month of going back and forth and deciding went out the window. She even went on about how pretty my hair was and was shocked when I told her that my ombre, summer-bleached ends were not fake. So, after some wooing, I decided to go for it. It’s only hair, right, and it’ll grow back…did the other two times I donated it.

So, for my third time donating hair, I was far less shocked when she brushed my hair forward, revealing all of the locks that were no longer attached to my head.  Leaving, I also felt such a sense of confidence in how I was able to chop a ton of hair off and feel amazing about taking a risk. And, as for the cheaper haircut equaling a bad job…not the case with this girl. I’m sure their full-price cuts are far more expensive than the deal I had, but she was good enough that I’ll definitely be going back to her. I might just have to save and only go twice a year.

I didn’t think to take a before picture, with the whole spur of the moment, not planned aspect. But, here is one that was taken about a month before the haircut (yay, revisiting Alyssa’s visit out here!), then the picture on the right is right after the haircut. Big difference taking 8 inches off!

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