So here’s a little bit about my life:
Age 5: First time I went swimming
Age 8: First time I got my ears pierced
Age 12: First time I owned a phone
Age 12: First time I got a detention (and cried so much she took it back lol)
Age 13: First time I went abroad without my parents
Age 17: First time I started working (paid)
Age 18: First time I bought my own alcoholic beverage
Age 19: First time I got my hair cut in a salon
Age 20: First time I will worry I’m getting old
Rewind back to 19. First time I got my hair cut in a salon. WHAT?
Yep, it’s true. And I sincerely apologise to any hairdressers reading this. I am ashamed. I am ashamed that I have completed thirteen years of compulsory education, drank (probably too many) shots of vodka, maintained a hobby of swimming for twelve years, passed my driving test, moved away from home to attend uni – all before I have had my hair cut in a salon. And to rub a little more salt into the wound, when people asked me how I have managed grow my hair so long, I would have to embarrassingly reply about how I hadn’t had my hair cut for a year and a half.
But before you jump to conclusions and pity-close this tab, I’m going to save my ass and say it doesn’t mean I’ve never had my hair cut. Now that would be silly, right? The entire time up until I reached secondary school, my mum used to cut my hair for me. So for 7(ish) years, she worked her magic with a pair of scissors, giving me plain, simple, shoulder length hair. Possibly with a full fringe if she felt adventurous, making me look like a real-life version of Boo from Monsters Inc. However, when I reached secondary school and I undeniably became pickier, she handed over the responsibility to my cousin, and also hairdresser, Lauren. Coming to my house for (yearly – and I take full responsibility for the lack of) hair appointments, meant that I had never undergone the full salon experience. So with the inspiration of a new hairstyle, and cringing at the state of my dry split ends, I decided that I should make a change.
Uni friend, Abbi, decided she wanted her hair done too, so we both spent a good few hours hunting online for an adequate yet relatively cheap salon (#StudentProblems). Eventually, we stumbled across a salon which is 5 star rated, and only a 20 minute walk from our halls – Precision Designs Cardiff. I guess you could say I booked the appointment pretty quickly, which is kind of a big deal as you can probably guess how easy I find putting off making hair appointments. *A YEAR AND A HALF! the voice inside my head screams*. So when Friday came around, I was ready to say goodbye to my very own lion’s mane.
I did feel a swarm of anxious anticipation whilst sat waiting for my appointment, and I’m not afraid to admit that. Why? Because being daring with my hair has gone about as far as being absolutely ludicrous and asking for layers. Or breaking the law and ombréing the ends of my hair myself. Get the picture? I’m not daring at all when it comes to hair. What if I don’t like my hair short? What if I can’t pull off my new hair change? What if too much gets cut off? ran through my head like a stuck record, however when I was called into the Chair of Change – I shall call it – I knew it would be a positive experience when they offered me a latte… the key to my heart.
Side note: I am aware I have taken plenty of pictures for this experience, however this was a very exciting time for me. And yes, I won’t deny possibly squealing “I’m so excited” to Abbi before the appointment. Please don’t judge me. Besides, it makes your reading experience on this blog much more visual… it’s a win win if you ask me.
Seeing as I have had long hair for such a huge period of my life, I felt like I wanted a change. However umming and ahhing whether to actually go short was a bipolar decision for me. I would convince myself short was the way to go, yet I would find myself fiddling with my hair, appreciating how long it is, wondering if I will regret it soon after it gets the chop. But as soon as I plunged in the deep end, telling Shauney (my hair Stylist) that I wanted to go a lot shorter, I had no choice but to have faith in my decision.
So what did I actually have done to my hair?
Step 1: Bye Bye Hair
Well, my limp and lifeless hair had even looked like it had enough of being long and neglected of care. I guess I would too, so I understand. Sorry, hair. So it was time to say good riddance to having to brush out weekly knot clumps, and malting more than an animal. No seriously, some flatmates have told me they have found my hair around the flat and in their rooms, even when I haven’t even stepped foot into their rooms. My hair has a mind of its own, and now apparently can grow legs too.
Step 2: Highlights
Chopping my hair to an inch or so below where I wanted, I then had highlights (half a head) of blonde put in my hair. Considering my desired style, Shauney faded my highlights from my roots to allow a less obvious, and more sun kissed look of blonde to gradient throughout my hair. The inspiration of my hair colour is called “bronde”, and for those of you who are thinking “what the hell is that?“, it’s brown hair with the subtle gradient of blonde – beautifully worn by my favourite blogger, Lydia Elise Millen. However, due to my hair being such a dark colour, my hair didn’t take to the blonde dye as strongly as I intended. To cool down the blonde that had worked, I had a toner put on my hair, and my hair Stylist assured me that it will be a working progress to get it to the bronde colour I had wanted.
Step 3: Tone, Wash & Dry
I sat through reading trashy gossip magazines – my pet hate, sorry not sorry. But hey, at least I am all clued up about Liam Payne and Cheryl’s X-Factor sparked relationship. And how Leonardo DiCaprio is bouncing from chick to chick at parties and clubs. *Grimaces weakly*. And after my brain was transformed to slosh from reading gossip stories, slightly burnt around the edges from the smell of bleach dye, my favourite bit finally arrived – wash and blow-dry. Therapeutically revitalising and relaxing, my head was smiling again, surrounded by soap suds.
Step 4: Style & Curl
After framing my face with a subtle fringe, my hair was treated, curled and styled. And voila! 4 hours later, and my new ‘do was complete. Smiling like a cheshire cat, both Abbi and I were pleased with our bouncing curls.
So there you have it, my hair confession. And if you hadn’t already gathered by the amount of pictures I had documented, which were obviously taken for blog purposes – I mean, who gets that excited about getting their hair cut, to need to take pictures? Oh, me apparently. So I think that it’s safe to say that my salon experience lived up to my expectations (and more), and I felt incredibly pampered as I walked out. Belly-button length hair is now no more, and I am loving the change.
Links to those mentioned:
P.s. I don’t know about you, but I could not relate to something more than this.