Disast-hair

This is an Old English Sheepdog. A loveable, precocious pet famous for its shaggy hair.

Guess which one I look like? Yep, the sheepdog.

Mind you, this should not be a surprise. Hair is so not my forte. I blow dry my hair a maximum of twice each week. Ponytails and buns are so much more functional. The humidity doesn’t mess up a ponytail and neither do children (most of the time).

The evidence against changing my hairstyle started stacking up before I even walked into the salon.

Exhibit A: My normal stylist wasn’t available for more than a month. Sarah totally would have talked my out of more layers. She knows all about my round-brushing deficiencies.

Exhibit B: I explain to the stylist (who will remain anonymous for this post) that I want bangs. And she says, “OOOH! I’m totally envisioning Heidi Klum layers. They would totally accent your eyes!” Who’s going to say no to that?

Exhibit C: Instead of combing, clipping and pinning my hair like most stylists do, she “mussed” it between each snip. Mussing is what you do to your younger brothers hair…sort of like a tender noogie.

So the haircut was finished and I’m looking in the mirror thinking, “Okay. I can do this. Just a little roll-brushing and flat-ironing.” I’m pretty sure my dismay was evident because the stylist kept saying, “Seriously! It makes you look so SASSY!” Right. Cause I can pull off sassy.

Exhibit D: I get home and Jamie looks at me and says, “It’s different.” Excellent observation, Love. “The stylist says it’s like Heidi Klum’s hair.” Jamie laughs hysterically. Literally, full-on belly laugh.

The next morning I get up and proceed to put my hair into a ponytail. One small problem: When you have 800 layers you are required to A) use a gallon of hairspray to get it to stay up or B) use 800 bobbie pins to secure each layer to your head. I opted for the hairspray, which lasted for about an hour in the humidity. Awesome. Now my back-up hairstyle is not an option.

Exhibit E: Blow-dried my hair for the first time this morning. And that was when I knew beyond a reasonably doubt that I AM NOT HEIDI KLUM. I actually worked with my hair for about 20 minutes (that’s an eternity for me) before I slipped on my sunglasses/headband and walked out the door.

I figure that if I can’t round brush, flat-iron, pin down or hair spray my new layers, I can hide them under a pair of sunglasses or a baseball cap. Great. The next six weeks should be interesting.

P.S. I also paid $125 for this disaster.