Friday, January 30, 2009

The New York Haircut

In a town where a decent haircut can cost you upwards of $70, it was inevitable. Cleverly called D.d.U. Model Project* (aka Dumble & Dumble University*), they make it their mission to lure you in with fancy paper cups of water and a hip meatpacking-district location. That, along with the trendy marketing, the rave reviews from acquaintances and the fact that it was free — OK, maybe just the fact that it was free — and I was hooked. They assessed my hair type, told me I was suitable for a haircut (praise Jesus!), and booked me for a Long Layers Razor Cut. Just one thing. Everyone who knows me, knows that I can't make a decision to save my life. A week before my appointment, I decided I wanted a change and switched to a Razor Bob Cut. I was under the impression that the cut would be funky and cool, not Hillary Clinton. My mistake. Have you ever heard of a cool bob? Am moron. Nonetheless, I assumed they would work with me, my hair type and my lifestyle (I have a creative job and don't wear pantsuits to work).

I was doomed from the moment I sat down. There I am, with about 19 other girls sitting in little barber stools. The students stylists shuffle in and make small talk with their victims clients. I'm alone. Palms are starting to sweat. Am feeling like the odd man out in 6th grade gym class. Finally, a petite woman wearing a giant rhinestone belt buckle walks over and introduces herself as Jody*. I have a thing for firm handshakes; hers was weak. Strike one...
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