I got the hair fixed, for those of you who asked. I look like Shane from the L Word now, which pleases me greatly: 
Also, since I am being egotistical anyway: The latest tv spot, which Josh says makes me sound Californian.
Also, since I am being egotistical anyway: The latest tv spot, which Josh says makes me sound Californian.
Labels: signs of latent homosexuality, weird obsession with finding perfect haircut
After three not-so-great haircuts in San Francisco — all of them from the alleged "best" salons in town — I am now going to become one of those awful, obnoxious people who doesn't get her hair cut in town. In Los Angeles, Christine Symonds at Warren-Tricomi gave me a snip that, no kidding, made me feel GIDDY. (See picture at right.) It was just what I wanted, a better version of me. I thought about flying to LA to have her cut it again, but not only is that environmentally awful, it's impractical, and besides, when do I have time?
So I went to yet another salon here in SF. This crappy cut from January was the worst so far, but this weekend's is the one that made me cry. Details are unimportant, but even after going back to have them fix it, it's uneven. And the only way to make it right is to go even shorter. I usually don't feel very attractive anyway, but now I feel even worse. I should have fled the salon the moment they mentioned that Devendra Banhart gets his hair cut there. If you need me, I'll just be hiding in my house for the next four months.
Labels: vanity, weird obsession with finding perfect haircut
Since leaving Chicago, one of the things I've missed—along with a decent brunch—is the talent of my hair stylist, Mitch, who works at Michael & Michael. He's great, he doesn't charge an arm and a leg, and he just knows how to read my style. Plus, he moved into an apartment across the street from me right before I left, and we were beginning to be buddies.
I have now gone to two of the fancy, written-up-in-Allure salons here, and, well, I think I may become one of those annoying people who winds up only getting haircuts when in New York. In October, I had a fantastic trim from Mordechai Alvow at Pashah. It looked great the day of the cut, and it grew out beautifully. Today, though, I realized that I was getting a bit mullety, so I made an appointment at Fancy Salon Place.
As you can see, it's not a bad cut per se. It's just not the most astounding one, you know? I think that when you spend three digits on a haircut—something I do not enjoy doing, and have never done before—it should make you feel like you have shampoo-commercial hair.
I have now gone to two of the fancy, written-up-in-Allure salons here, and, well, I think I may become one of those annoying people who winds up only getting haircuts when in New York. In October, I had a fantastic trim from Mordechai Alvow at Pashah. It looked great the day of the cut, and it grew out beautifully. Today, though, I realized that I was getting a bit mullety, so I made an appointment at Fancy Salon Place.
As you can see, it's not a bad cut per se. It's just not the most astounding one, you know? I think that when you spend three digits on a haircut—something I do not enjoy doing, and have never done before—it should make you feel like you have shampoo-commercial hair.
Labels: humiliating photographs, vanity, weird obsession with finding perfect haircut
