AnqeIicDemise
June 22nd, 2013, 12:24 AM
And was told 'no.'
At first, I was planning to go for six inches. 1) to get rid of damage that was centralized in the 2nd inch from the bottom. (As of earlier I had 4 inches of layers I wanted to cut off. This two inch from the bottom was the longest layer not trimmed in four years. Its also around where I tie off my braids.) 2) to get a blunt hemline. 3) I swore I had a 'fraying' hemline.
J flat out looked at me like I was crazy and told me she was *not* going to cut off six inches today. "If I do, you'll go home and cry."
I saw her on a whim about three months ago because my usual girl was booked. J, unlike V, never thought I was 'insane' for wanting long hair nor did I what I asked to simply 'amuse me'. The last trim I had in December, I caught V rolling her eyes at me when I said I wasn't done growing. While I adore V and her amazing skills, I noticed she did a lot of the eye-rolling and lip biting whenever I mentioned my goals. She cut off the inch if I asked but if I said 'cut off six inches' she'd gladly go for it. No questions asked.
No, not J. J gets me. Gets my passion. RESPECTS my passion.
When I saw her for the first time, I was having a bad reaction to cones and my attempt to fix it. She understood I was concerned about the shampoos we carry, their high sulfate content and the fact that I didn't want to have horrible itching/flaking because of them. She could see that my scalp was already angry at me. She also noticed my natural wave pattern and decided to treat my hair like a curly haired gal. She painstakingly detangled my hair with a *wide tooth comb* (something V refused to do. She'd hold my hair up and kind of tug the knots out. I can't say she ever ripped it through but its obvious she wasn't used to handling long hair.) She then used her denman brush to keep tension while she flat ironed it (after putting heat protectant on) then went over with a smaller comb while she trimmed. And while she trimmed, she had me stand up, hold onto the chair and she got onto her *knees* to make sure everything was straight. She then went over the end with clippers fro a precise blunt line.
Girl. Got. Skill.
Anyhow, today was my annual "Big Cut". I always cut my hair on the summer solstice. (yes, I follow the Moon Method, since childhood. Partly 'cause Dad's a farmer and as an adult, I'm a Pagan. It goes hand in hand.) So, yeah, I was ready for six inches.
This visit went better than the last.
She washed my hair after having gone through our selection of shampoos and pointing out we had an option for me. (Hypo allergenic, low sulfate poo. It was low in fragrance too.) I got the BEST scalp massage. As usual, I conked out at the bowl.
She then detangled with her wide tooth comb, and because of my waves, she blew my hair (on low, no less!) straight to, again, ensure the straightest hemline. She flat ironed for precision. (Yup, heat protectant as well. I don't mind using hot tools at the salon. I don't use them at home except once or twice during the winter and I figure it won't make a difference.) Again, she had me stand up. Again, she got onto her knees to make sure the line went straight.
I felt bad for her being on her knees part, but we're about the same height and she wanted the line to be parallel to the floor.
Before she even started cutting, she decided to inspect my ends. She agreed to the damage, but called me insane to think I had thinning ends. She explained part of the illusion was because the last four inches of my hair not only have layers, but they're *old* layers that have not been trimmed in years AND she can tell this section of hair was thinned with thinning shears. Now that I have considerable length, on top of the fact that I have a vibrant red dip dye, there's an illusion to what I call 'damaged, thin ends.) The untrimmed layers are fragile because of the bleach and since I often tie around this area I had mechanical damage. It was minimal, J explained, but because the section of hair had not been trimmed in ages, she was willing to concede two inches had to go. Everything above that was healthy.
She'd cut six inches if I insisted, but she knew for a fact I'd go home, regret it, and cry.
I had to agree I would.
Two inches later, I feel bald. It felt like a huge weight got lifted and I keep reaching to my tailbone to feel my ends and they're gone. I paw around and find the end at the small of my back. It is *so* weird and I have to remind myself this is still long. The longest its been since middle school and the *healthiest* its been since...like..ever.
So, I'm glad I met such a passionate, conscientious, *respectful* and thoughtful stylist... on an accident, no less. While I may not see her very often since I'm still actively growing, I want to get her as many referrals as I can so she doesn't go anywhere. I loved V's work and her ethics but J... J is one of those 'one in a million' stylists that simply 'gets it'. And its not just because she understands the LHC mindset but because she gets *everyone*s mind set. Seriously, this girl has got mad skill. I've seen her curly haired cuts. Her men's cuts. Her elder ladies cuts. Everyone who sits in her chair gets treated like they matter. Because y'know what? They do.
:happydance:
I found my gem.
ps: I'll be posting pictures once I get the camera charged up. :D
At first, I was planning to go for six inches. 1) to get rid of damage that was centralized in the 2nd inch from the bottom. (As of earlier I had 4 inches of layers I wanted to cut off. This two inch from the bottom was the longest layer not trimmed in four years. Its also around where I tie off my braids.) 2) to get a blunt hemline. 3) I swore I had a 'fraying' hemline.
J flat out looked at me like I was crazy and told me she was *not* going to cut off six inches today. "If I do, you'll go home and cry."
I saw her on a whim about three months ago because my usual girl was booked. J, unlike V, never thought I was 'insane' for wanting long hair nor did I what I asked to simply 'amuse me'. The last trim I had in December, I caught V rolling her eyes at me when I said I wasn't done growing. While I adore V and her amazing skills, I noticed she did a lot of the eye-rolling and lip biting whenever I mentioned my goals. She cut off the inch if I asked but if I said 'cut off six inches' she'd gladly go for it. No questions asked.
No, not J. J gets me. Gets my passion. RESPECTS my passion.
When I saw her for the first time, I was having a bad reaction to cones and my attempt to fix it. She understood I was concerned about the shampoos we carry, their high sulfate content and the fact that I didn't want to have horrible itching/flaking because of them. She could see that my scalp was already angry at me. She also noticed my natural wave pattern and decided to treat my hair like a curly haired gal. She painstakingly detangled my hair with a *wide tooth comb* (something V refused to do. She'd hold my hair up and kind of tug the knots out. I can't say she ever ripped it through but its obvious she wasn't used to handling long hair.) She then used her denman brush to keep tension while she flat ironed it (after putting heat protectant on) then went over with a smaller comb while she trimmed. And while she trimmed, she had me stand up, hold onto the chair and she got onto her *knees* to make sure everything was straight. She then went over the end with clippers fro a precise blunt line.
Girl. Got. Skill.
Anyhow, today was my annual "Big Cut". I always cut my hair on the summer solstice. (yes, I follow the Moon Method, since childhood. Partly 'cause Dad's a farmer and as an adult, I'm a Pagan. It goes hand in hand.) So, yeah, I was ready for six inches.
This visit went better than the last.
She washed my hair after having gone through our selection of shampoos and pointing out we had an option for me. (Hypo allergenic, low sulfate poo. It was low in fragrance too.) I got the BEST scalp massage. As usual, I conked out at the bowl.
She then detangled with her wide tooth comb, and because of my waves, she blew my hair (on low, no less!) straight to, again, ensure the straightest hemline. She flat ironed for precision. (Yup, heat protectant as well. I don't mind using hot tools at the salon. I don't use them at home except once or twice during the winter and I figure it won't make a difference.) Again, she had me stand up. Again, she got onto her knees to make sure the line went straight.
I felt bad for her being on her knees part, but we're about the same height and she wanted the line to be parallel to the floor.
Before she even started cutting, she decided to inspect my ends. She agreed to the damage, but called me insane to think I had thinning ends. She explained part of the illusion was because the last four inches of my hair not only have layers, but they're *old* layers that have not been trimmed in years AND she can tell this section of hair was thinned with thinning shears. Now that I have considerable length, on top of the fact that I have a vibrant red dip dye, there's an illusion to what I call 'damaged, thin ends.) The untrimmed layers are fragile because of the bleach and since I often tie around this area I had mechanical damage. It was minimal, J explained, but because the section of hair had not been trimmed in ages, she was willing to concede two inches had to go. Everything above that was healthy.
She'd cut six inches if I insisted, but she knew for a fact I'd go home, regret it, and cry.
I had to agree I would.
Two inches later, I feel bald. It felt like a huge weight got lifted and I keep reaching to my tailbone to feel my ends and they're gone. I paw around and find the end at the small of my back. It is *so* weird and I have to remind myself this is still long. The longest its been since middle school and the *healthiest* its been since...like..ever.
So, I'm glad I met such a passionate, conscientious, *respectful* and thoughtful stylist... on an accident, no less. While I may not see her very often since I'm still actively growing, I want to get her as many referrals as I can so she doesn't go anywhere. I loved V's work and her ethics but J... J is one of those 'one in a million' stylists that simply 'gets it'. And its not just because she understands the LHC mindset but because she gets *everyone*s mind set. Seriously, this girl has got mad skill. I've seen her curly haired cuts. Her men's cuts. Her elder ladies cuts. Everyone who sits in her chair gets treated like they matter. Because y'know what? They do.
:happydance:
I found my gem.
ps: I'll be posting pictures once I get the camera charged up. :D