We've all been there, the mix of excitement
and anxiety that can only mean one thing: a visit to the salon. As women, we
pride ourselves on our hair just as much as we pride ourselves on anything else
we do, from our ability to gracefully navigate any conversation, to our impressive
baking skills, to the talent of undoing a button down with one hand. Bad hair
days are the vain of our existence, and ever since we cut the hair of
our first Barbie doll and she ended up looking like Angelica's Cynthia doll, we
understand the consequences of a haircut gone wrong.
If you're lucky,
you've had the same stylist for years and she knows exactly what looks good on you, and what
doesn't. She talked you out of going brunette that one time, and bless her soul
for preventing you from getting that retched bob with bangs style you thought
was so cool back in eighth grade. She might have single handedly saved you from
social suicide in middle school. A hairdresser is not only someone trusted with
maintaining your beauty and image, but she is also someone you trust to listen
to all of your qualms and worries, no matter how silly or superficial. Going to
the salon is an experience, because you’re not just losing the weight of a few
inches of hair, you’re losing the weight of a whole bunch of bad decisions;
anything from frat star drama to depression over the three pounds you gained
from girl scout cookie season. These are the things that, to be honest, no one
else cares about. But, you’re not just paying your hairdresser to do your hair,
you’re paying her to listen, and as long as you return the favor of listening,
you are going to get genuine advice not even some of your sisters could give
you.
Now even if you would trust your stylist
with your entire jewelry collection, in the days leading up to an appointment, you
are, without a doubt, still fretting. Why do we freak so much? Why are a few
inches here and there so important? (And no I'm not talking about men, that can
be discussed another time.)
The truth is, as
women, we are taught to have everything together, and our hair is one of the
greatest outward representations of who we are as strong, capable, individuals.
How is anyone supposed to know how well you walk drunk in your heels or how
well you can paint a cooler if you don't look like you can? The point is: they
can't. We all know from Elle Woods the importance of perfect hair; how else
would she have become a super successful lawyer, married her Harvard hottie,
and saved Bruiser's mom? Clearly not if her hair was dull knots instead of golden
locks. Plus, she never would have gotten rid of Warner, who couldn't handle the
power of the blonde so he didn’t deserve her anyway.
So next time
someone gives you grief about stressing about your hair, remember that one,
they probably don't have nice hair themselves, and two, that you have the
right to care about something that might very well determine every many aspects
of your future. Beautiful hair is a blessing and a privilege, not a right.
