I got a haircut. After all of the hubbub about what I want to look like and the image Imwant to portray, it came down to my friend Cathy saying that I should get my hair to look like Jude Law’s.
I was told I had his hairline. I believe that means receding, but my hairline is just that far back by genetics. So, when other people would ask me if I made a decision about my hairstyle, I told them about the Jude Law theory. And everyone I mentioned to agreed. I was a little surprised that anyone had an opinion, but it was very flattering to have people asking me what I was going to do.
But the next step was deciding where to go. I was told Supercuts and the Hair Cuttery were out of the question. The quote was, “You’re almost thirty. You have some money. You can go to a place that costs more than ten dollars.” Keep in mind the Hair Cuttery was $15. And for many years, my hair stylist was my cousin Ashley, who did a fantastic job. but Ashley moved on to bigger and better things and I suppose, so should I.
The Internet provides an individual with all of the information that they could possibly want about a salon. I looked at Google Maps for nearby salons and checked out the reviews. And decided on a place called Jason Alexander’s Salon. I called and made an appointment for the Wednesday before my best friends’s wedding. (A lovely event for a different post.)
I was nervous all day. I have had the same part for as long as I could remember, outside of the summer my dad wanted my brother and I to have widow’s peaked crew cuts. My friends at work told me not to worry. It was going to be fantastic. They promised the hair stylist wouldn’t get too handsy with me since I am not a big fan of being touched. They promised that I would look great. They promised it would go better than I think.
I got to the salon ten minutes early. I had just bought my share of comics including Batman #10 with its big reveal of who was behind the Court of the Owls. I hope that storyline turns out better than the reveal. Seriously, Scott Snyder, is your brother a pain or something? And I started to read it. About page six, Stephanie told me it was my turn.
Stephanie was very nice. She just moved up to Lake Villa. Sounds like its a nice place. She was interested in the wedding and in the fact that I had the same haircut, which she deemed too long in length, for so long in time. Twenty five minutes later, I was shampooed, given the cut, and taught how to use product. I bought the clay stuff she used for as much as my haircuts used to cost and asked when I should come back. Like with the dentist, the recommendation seems too soon, but I nodded and will probably go back in two months.
When I got in the car, my hair touched the roof of the car. It’s not a high roof, so the extra height of about an inch or two really changes everything. I liked how I looked in the rear view mirror. It wasn’t really any different. Just shorter. Basically, if I went to get my haircut every two months instead of four months, I would look like this more often than not. Damn laziness.
But the real test was waking up the next morning and trying to put product into my own hair and then showing off at work. I still don’t understand how to use product and I have tried watching YouTube videos where really attractive people make it seem attractively easy. I’m clumsy and goofy. I would rather act ridiculous than pretend that putting some sort of gray substance into my hair was a science or interesting. But again, I’m not someone making attractive people YouTube videos. I got to work and I was called handsome. Doesn’t matter by whom or how often. The words were vocalized. So, I asked Cathy to take a picture of me making a similar face to Jude Law – just add my ridiculousness.
I think it’s funny that I give a damn about my hair. I have had the same hairstyle for a long time and really, I don’t look any different. But I wanted to look a bit cleaner for my best friends’s big day. And honestly, that’s the important part. Whether or not I ever learn how to use hair products or get my hair cut to look like someone that wasn’t just near a wind tunnel doesn’t matter. I decided to do something and I did it. Along the way, I made some new friends, I made people laugh, and I complained a lot about stupid things that normal people don’t complain about. I suppose that’s why I write in a personal blog about my hair.
Let me know if it works or if you have seen me in the past couple of weeks after the trim. Was I more attractive, less attractive, or the same goof who talks about Elongated Man and the Flash too much? As if anyone could talk about them too much.