How to: Get the Most Expensive Hair Cut

Hello there, Internets! Nice to meet ya! Now that we are all introduced and friends, let me tell you a little bedtime story about how hair extensions can ruin your life.

 Okay...that's dramatic....

But I am not going to be okay for a long time after this! Check this out, ladies!

                                                     

                                                      This is Me (and my Mom's dog):

I guess about a week or two ago, I decided that I wanted to go back to my natural hair color.  I contacted the girl who recently began doing my hair, and set up an appointment. I excitedly searched through Pinterest, until I came across this adorable cut! 

(Side note: I realize that this particular cut is a little bit longer than my hair in the first picture, which was taken at Christmas.)

My "Stylist" gets me right in!! Yay!! New hair!! I was PUMPED! 

I showed up to her home studio (which is really just a barber chair and a mirror at her house), and we get to work! She mixes the colors like a pro, and we chat and laugh. It was so nice to spend time out of my house and to be treating myself.  

She takes off the foils and the color was almost exactly what I wanted! I was so thrilled! This was going to be SO pretty!! 

"With hair like this, I am going to keep my New Year's Resolution to wear my makeup more! Nope...this is going to turn out so good I won't NEED makeup!" (My inner mind is pretty confident...Sorry not sorry. :)  ))

So, the "Stylist" starts to cut my hair. I'm watching in the mirror, and getting very nervous. ((IDK, I think it's the "crunch" of the scissors that gives me anxiety.))

Next thing I know, I am staring into the mirror and watching her grab up bangs. I panic. This is not my picture at all!! I start to think she must have a plan, and it will still look somewhat like the picture, and "DEAR GOD PLEASE STOP CUTTING!".

                                    The Choppy, Stacked End Result (After I fixed it at home):

      

Stunned, I walk over to her kitchen island, write her a check for $65.00, and proceed to my vehicle. Once I got inside, I got to the first stop sign and ripped down the car visor.  It was awful. I looked like a boy. I started crying, and called my boyfriend to warn him. 

The very first thing I did when I got home was flat iron it. That definitely made it less mushroom-y. I sent pictures, and immediately started getting teased. I was told I resembled one of The Three Stooges, and asked if I double for Peter Pan. While I ALWAYS love and appreciate the banter, I was so butt hurt from the cut, that I let that sink in and marinate for a while. ((My Inner Mind also loves to stew.))

I remember back to when I had gotten to the "Stylist's" home earlier that day, there were a few packs of blonde hair on her desk, or whatever you call it.  I asked about it. Turns out they are fusion hair extensions. Nail Tip (U-tip) extensions to be exact! She then explained to me how they worked. Seemed so easy! The idea of it consumed me now.

I mean...look at these results!

So gorgeous! I had to have them. I talked to the stylist again and told her I was going to order hair, and I wanted to do this A.S.A.P. because my haircut wasn't a hit.  (I thought the haircut was livable, but the thought was planted, I was too late!)  We decided on auburn colored hair with No. 27 Strawberry Blonde highlights. This was going to cost me money I didn't have, but I could no longer survive on this earth without having long hair again!

I set out onto the internet to find a shade that was close to my new hair color. They weren't terribly hard to find. One info site, and one trip to Amazon later, four packs of my new hair ($50-$60 a pack) were on the way! I patted myself on the back and called it a night! What a good problem solver I am!! I was literally giddy.

There were immediate signs of trouble from that minute on. Whew! Next time, I will pay attention to the Universe a little more.

Everything was guaranteed delivery by Monday night, so I made my appointment for Tuesday morning.  The first annoying thing that happened was that the "Stylist" sort of quit communicating with me during the buying and preparation phase of all this. I was getting a little frustrated, and I found myself apologizing for being annoying when I had questions about my hair I ordered, or the process. She did tell me a price, though. Her normal rate was $200 dollars an hour, but she would only charge me half because she "knew me" and "loved me". She also said she didn't mess around would be probably be done after 2 1/2 hours.  My inner voice choked, but I was too far into this now.

The next thing was the color of the hair. It said it was auburn, but that shiz was RED.  It was SO DEFINITELY NOT the right color. I had ordered ashe brown, and the No. 27 Strawberry Blonde to pair with this. As per the "Stylist's" suggestion. I text her and told her it was Ariana Grande red, and asked her what to do. No response.

After many, MANY hours she responded with a very short text letting me know that we were, basically, still on. I took a deep breath.

The last thing was that the brown and No. 27 Strawberry Blonde packs of hair didn't show.  I was told that we could borrow a pack of the other lady's blonde. No biggie.  This was happening.

HERE WE GO!!!:

My "OMG IM SO EXCITED- Before"selfie!!

This was about half-way in! 90's GlamourShot HEAVEN baby! 

We were pumped! This was going to look so good! And it was so long and pretty! 

                  (((WE ARE NOW 2 1/2 HOURS IN AND LESS THAN HALFWAY DONE)))

At hour four, she exhaustedly got the last one in. All of our enthusiasm was gone. Our kids were there and being wild; we were hungry, grumpy and tired. We were super bummed because we figured out that the top part of my hair was going to have to be dyed red and blonde. **SIGH** We decided to take a break and regroup in an hour or two. She offered me a hat as I left with my boys.

(This is my "OMG WE STILL AREN'T DONE" selfie I took to send to my boyfriend, before I drove away and took my kiddos to lunch. All of the hair is in, but we still have to color and style and junk...)

I come back about an hour and a half later. It was a struggle. I had to have a little surgical procedure done to on my hip the week before, and I was very tired and my incision hurt. I really considered calling her and rescheduling for the next day.  But I mean damn...I'm kind of "in this" now; it has to be seen through.

The "Stylist" proceeded to mix my colors. Here we go again!! Party on, Garth!

The extensions were making my head so sore and tender. I kept saying how heavy they felt. And tight. REALLY tight. I would jump whenever she touched them. Like, was this supposed to be painful?? I chalked it up to me being a noob. I assumed that there would be an adjustment period and I would have to get used to them. The pain would go away.

We wash out the color, and in her shitty bathroom light, WHAT DO YOU KNOW, IT'S A DEAD MATCH! This was a huge morale booster. 

We got back in the barber chair, and she told me she would have to cut the extensions to make it look "normal". Okay... I was not happy about this. I told her a few times throughout the day that I didn't want to cut anything we didn't have to. I was spending a small fortune for long, beautiful hair and now we have to cut it?? I told myself that I wasn't the expert here.  She has probably done this so many times and I just need to trust her. 

SHE CUTS OFF ALL OF THE EXTENSIONS. 

My hair is now the original length it was at Christmas, only a $500 version of it. And also, the cut was sketchy. I figured that if I curled it, maybe it would help. Here is the end result:

Goodbye long, pretty mermaid hair! I was sent home like this. Not only is the cut jagged and uneven, but the color DID NOT EVEN MATCH. This was the ugliest hair I've ever seen. And I paid hundreds of dollars. I sent pictures to my friends, and they FREAKED OUT, and not in a good way.  Every single one of them were unanimous in the fact that they were confused if this was the before or after picture. I mean, I signed up for EXTENSIONS. 

This is the before:

 This is the after:

See any similarities??
I do.

(I was almost physically sick. I paid her $300 for her time, and then she charged me another $65 for the misshapen color. I wrote her a check and ran.)

I'm hysterical. I grab the curling iron and curl it. That would definitely help.

Nope. Now I look like I am in a bad drag wig. 

Let's talk about the pain. My head was on fire and aching. I was sobbing, but didn't know what was hurt worse. My head or my feelings. 

I quickly consulted a few of my friends that did hair professionally. At least three. I was definitely not calling the "Stylist" again. She was not going to touch my head again. The idea of having to sit there for hours, and her possibly make this worse was overwhelming. I also didn't have the energy for drama or feelings. The general consensus was to cover my head in olive, or baby oil to break up the bond in the glue. That way, I could easily pull them apart. Heating them to get them out made it stick in worse. It created a horrible glue situation. I frantically call my neighbors, and acquired the said olive oil. 

(My "I Smell Like A Salad And I Am In So Much Pain Face" selfie)

Like a good little girl, I covered my head in oil. I popped on a shower cap, and wrapped a towel around my head to keep in heat. This will all be over tomorrow. 

I got up early Wednesday morning, after a sleepless night, to try to pull them out.  The only thing that happened, was all of the hair, real and not, had absorbed the oil. The glue was as strong as ever. I was in the most pain yet. I waited until 8:30 and woke up my 3 year old and loaded him into the car. I was going to be at Sally's when they opened for Plan B. Acetone Glue Remover.

After another $50, I walk out with the glue and cotton pads and a fierce determination to get these out of my hair. I'm stressing the eff out.

I spend the next few hours soaking the extensions one by one, and picking the glue apart. This was agony. The chemicals were burning my skin, because most of the extensions were almost touching my scalp. There is supposed to be a certain distance between the glued bond, and the scalp. At least I now knew where the pain was coming from. After almost two hours, I had gotten 5 out of 200 out. I called one of my hairdresser friends back, and they told me there was a special tool I needed to get them out. Only this specific tool will break the glue. I was so relieved!! I was just doing it wrong! I called my boyfriend crying, and asked him to please go to Sally's and pick up these damn pliers. THEY ARE THE KEY TO OUR HAPPINESS!

Bless him.

He got them.

(Another $25.00)

He gets home from work and immediately starts trying to help me get them out. Nothing we did was working. The tool, glue remover, heat, oil...these babies were one there.  I talked to two different hair professionals before we made the decision to start cutting them out.  The pain after all of this was unbearable.  As my precious boyfriend (Bless him.) is cutting these pieces out of my head, he is telling me about the burns on my head, and that some of the glue was actually melted in my scalp and not just my hair.  I make a post on our local community group, asking if anyone can recommend a good wig shop. No more, no less. I almost immediately get a call from the "Stylist". She wanted to know what was going on. (I had mentioned to one commenter that I may have to shave my head. No more, no less.) I tell her through sobs what was happening. She demanded to know why I didn't call her and tell her, or even speak up!! The only answer I could think of was "I didn't want to hurt her feelings." ((For some reason, I am still worried about her feelings during this)) I told her I hated all of it; that cutting was the very last resort. That we wouldn't be cutting if we hadn't tried everything. 

I read through the posts, and start calling. I realized I could make it to Anita's in Hoover before it closes at 6:00. We cut as many as we think we need to, leaving some in. I make my way to Patton Creek Shopping center. 

I completely break down once I see this sweet, asian lady's face. She was so compassionate and kind. She was furious that this happened to me, and insisted that I give her my phone. She proceeded to take a video showing how closely the bonds were to my scalp. Then she showed me the pictures she took... Y'ALL.... I CAN'T EVEN....

THIS IS WHAT MY HEAD LOOKS LIKE. 

THIS IS THE END RESULT OF  OVER $500 WORTH OF CUT, COLOR, AND EXTENSIONS. 

I feel like this escalated quickly. 

The sweet asian lady hooked me up with a beautiful wig. 

$325.00

I am broke...and broken. I am completely exhausted in every way. I never saw this coming. 

I make my way home with a partially shaved head, and a new million dollar wig. I decided I wasn't going to cry about this anymore. 

I get home and send out pics of me in the wig. There was another round of confusion, because they thought that the wig was my actual end result. As in, those were the extensions. Nope. We played another round of "Before and After". The whole time, I kept her identity and reputation a secret. There were only two people who knew I had gone to her for this, and one was my boyfriend (Bless him.).  I was still protecting her. 

She text me late that night, and asked me how I was. She said I had been on her mind all day. She was so concerned. She asked me if I still loved her. I told her I did, but that I was very upset. (We have known each other for a very long time before any of this doing my hair business.) I also sent her the picture of my "Spider Baby" hair. She had absolutely no response. 

**MEANWHILE, BACK ON THE FACEBOOK POST**

A friend of mine said I must have gotten a bad color job. I responded with "I did something to my hair, and things got weird, and I had to cut some of it to the scalp.". If not those words, something very similar. Another friend of mine, who knew the situation but not the identity of the "Stylist", and I began joking around about putting this story in a book or movie. 

I went to bed laughing. 

Apparently, while I was sleeping, the "Stylist" went on my wig post and proceeded to let everyone know that she was not liable for any of this. That I didn't consult her and cut my hair of my own accord. That I was unhappy with an original haircut and BLAH BLAH BLAH. She put it all on me. She had no part in this. WHY ARE YOU TELLING ON YOURSELF?? CALM DOWN. Now everyone knows it was you, dummy. ((Again, I shouldn't even care. This is her fault))

Today the boyfriend (Bless him.) asked her if we could renegociate the amount of money I paid her. He was so nice to her. We didn't know that she had been so ugly on facebook at this point. She didn't answer. 

I sent her a text asking for my money back and she wouldn't respond. 

Stage One:

Stage 2: Extension End Result

Stage 3: Post Extensions

And now we have come full circle!! 

I'm wiggin' out, y'all. See what I did there?? LOL 

I'm sorry. That was bad. Uggghhhh. 

So be warned...this could happen to you! 

Especially in Trussville, AL. 

Good night, Lovelies!

**UPDATE**

She still hasn't answered me.

She also cashed my check.

I haven't shaved my entire head yet.

She has been reported to the Alabama Cosmetology Board. (Yes, she is liscensed.)