As a college student, paying to get my haircut is a pretty good portion of my paycheck. Needless to say, it does not happen very often. I trim the ends of my hair with my eyebrow scissors, and pull the top of my hair up straight to attempt some layers. Good enough for no one to notice a change. But also not good enough for anyone to notice. When I heard that Aveda Institute offers haircuts for $12, I was all over it, and made an appointment right away.
Walking through Aveda to get to my seat went by too quickly. All I wanted to do was stop and stare at every single one of them. Every single person had some sort of remarkable hairstyle I have never seen before. Whether half of their head was shaved short while the other half stayed long and swept across (I know that sounds more like Cruella DeVille than a stylish haircut, but, trust me, it worked), or a guy with his hair died so it looked like tiger print, I could not get over how creative and bold these stylists looked.
When my hairdresser sat me down, she was amazed that I had never dyed or colored my hair before. Looking around, I was almost embarrassed. They must think I am so boring, with my brown, never colored, not styled, straight, flat hair. I cringed when I told her not too many layers.
This experience got me thinking about what a hairstyle can say about someone. When we see someone with dreadlocks, we think of them as a free spirit. Maybe even an artist. It is likely they will have tattoos or piercings. A guy with a Mohawk is the football player who shaved his head with his teammates. The girl with perfect blonde pin straight hair grew up on a golf course and eats dinner with her family every night. The girl with an afro is going to school to be a fashion designer.
When I thought about how my hair portrayed me, I decided I wanted to do something drastic and new. So, I got a perm. Yup, I got a perm. When I told my friends, they said they hoped I was joking, but I did it anyways.
While I was hoping for a new set of perfect ringlets, bouncing in the wind and drying flawlessly with no preparation, I was highly disappointed (as you could have guessed). My hair was too long, or too straight, or just too…me. When I walked out of the salon, my hair looked exactly how it did when I walked in. My failed attempt at something bold and out of my comfort zone led me straight to where I belong. While I am proud to say I tried something new, maybe my hair really does convey me, and I realized I was made how I am supposed to be.