Posted on

The never-ending haircut finally ends

The never-ending haircut finally ends The never-ending haircut finally ends

– Column –

By Julia Wolf

The power of suggestion is a strong force.

I had been thinking about getting my hair cut for a while. Every two years or so, I chop at least 10 inches off. It had been a little over two years.

Then I saw it, videos showing others undergoing drastic haircuts. I was hooked and determined I needed a haircut immediately, or risk being annoyed with my “do” for the rest of eternity.

The problem with my spur-of-the-moment decision, is I didn’t do a ton of research into where I should get it cut. I also wasn’t set on which hairstyle I wanted, beyond the idea that I wanted my hair about shoulder length and wanted to donate to Locks of Love.

For some reason, the first hair salon I thought of where there was a real chance I’d get in within a week, was at JCPenny. I didn’t know if the Eau Claire store had a salon, but the internet claimed it did, which made the prospect even more tempting.

After work, I made the trek to see if I could find the salon, or if I should start calling around to see where I could get in. I found the salon after wandering through the entire store. I was pretty proud of myself. I only got distracted once. (I walked past the bath towels. What can I say?) I did eventually find the salon, but not before multiple store employees asked me if I was finding everything OK. Upon walking into the salon, I stood at the counter for a while. Nothing. So, I ventured a little farther into the salon portion of the store and found an employee.

The employee said they do participate in Locks of Love, so I asked how to make an appointment. Cue the employee’s confused look, followed by, “You don’t want it done now?” Sure, why not.

At this point, I realized I had about three minutes to pick the hairstyle I’d have for the next two or three years. No pressure.

I started thinking back to the hairstyle ideas my boyfriend sent me. All that did was make me laugh. He had sent me six or seven pictures, and all except one of the pictures featured a lady with the same hairstyle, with the only difference being the human modeling the look and the hair color. The last picture he sent was very similar to the first style, but not quite the same. After previous experience with the hairstyle in question, I decided against that one.

Luckily, or unluckily, depending on how you look at it, I had extra time to think on the style I wanted. The hairdresser couldn’t find rubber bands to contain my hair for the donation. After an extensive search of the room by the two employees, the ponytail holders were located in what was apparently an unlikely location. The employees decided a third employee had been hoarding them. Of course. Why not?

I decided on a bob. So off we went, first cutting the length off for the donation before moving on to styling. At one point, I told the stylist there was some hair still tucked behind my ear. It was at least an inch longer than the rest of the hair she just cut.

The cut did look great when it was finished and mailing the braid was not as trying an experience as I thought it would be.

The next day, after finishing washing my hair, I noticed a small chunk of hair was longer than the rest. I figured that was just a piece that curls more than the rest when it is dry. When it was still longer later, I thought it was maybe tucked behind my ear during the cut. So, I trimmed it.

I trimmed a different section later, at which point I began to wonder what was going on. But it seemed pretty straightforward: the hair is too long, you cut it.

After a third time of snipping at the ends, I figured it out. My part line was shifting, so the hair was the correct length on the one side of the part line, but way too long when it flipped to the other side. After the realization I had trimmed my hair unnecessarily, I stood and stared at myself in the mirror for a good, long while, wondering how anyone could possibly be that dumb.

It would only happen to me. On the bright side, hair grows back, so the mistake will be forgotten in two or three years.