If you were to look at photos of me as a child you would see a little girl with long, honey-blond hair. I loved my blond locks even though they tangled and were a mess most of the time. I never had much patience with hair and as a teenager cut it all off into a chin-length bob and later a spiky pixie. Somewhere along the line the blond hair turned a soft brown, and by the time I was in my 20’s any blond hair I wanted came from a bottle. But I still had no patience with hair maintenance, so although like most young people I experimented with color a bit, it never took long before I was back to light brown. I kept my natural color all though my thirties but my attitude toward my brown hair changed when I turned forty. No grey has found its way onto my head yet, but my hair needs more attention regardless.
Being blond as a child made a deep impression on me. Even as a brunette I always saw blond in the mirror. Photos told the truth, and sometimes I barely recognized the image the woman with the brown hair looking back at me. When I decided it was time to focus more attention on my hair I didn’t hesitate: I asked for blond highlights. My hair stylist uses two colors and adds streaks of pale and medium blond throughout my head. My hair becomes lighter with every visit. Eventually it might get too blond, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.
I go to a local salon chain called Floyd’s once every few months and visit the same talented hairdresser every time. I should probably be even more consistent about appointments, but I now have my hair cut and colored more often than any other point in my life. Salon visits are always enjoyable because my hair stylist, Victoria, is personable and very good at her job. She listens to my requests and makes a few suggestions of her own, but is never pushy. I like that. She’s also adorable, as you cans see below. I always feel more confident about a hair cut when the person holding the scissors has a fashionable hair do and a great sense of personal style.
But having my hair highlighted, washed, cut and blowed dry takes a long time. Hours actually. Victoria always finds something to talk about, but there’s still a lot of down time while the chemicals slowly change my hair from brown to blond. Thankfully it’s always fun to read new fashion magazines.
The people watching is great.
The posters that blanket the wall are visually interesting as well.
After three hours I’m done. My roots have been touched up and my hair, which I’m attempting to grow out again, is trimmed and healthy looking.