You pay for what you get

I'm quite conservative when it comes to spending money on my hair. I know the hairstyle is important, and I by no means scout for the cheapest and worst hairdresser... but sacrificing a gorgeous top, or a chic pair of shoes for a relatively intangible hair-cut (after-all, it grows out after a month or so!) is not something I practice. You either have it all, or you pick the shoes!

G on the other hand will walk down to the road to the boutique filled Bayview strip to get his hair trimmed (so little change that it doesn't even count as a haircut) at the "Spa Salon". He pays top dollar and a decent tip for a Senior Stylist every 6 weeks. Not sure whether it is convenience, or whether it has anything to do with the hot petite Asian stylist who he used to go to religiously - or the Parisian chick who has now replaced her. Or even the fact that all the hot stylists wear white from top to toe... yep, go the white pants!

Sorry, back to the point. I needed a haircut. I was considering splurging on the "Spa Salon", even if it was to check out this Parisian... the price G pays is not cheap but affordable... but ofcourse when I check the prices, it costs way more for women than it does men. I guess it's normal, but suddenly it is not so affordable for an unemployed bum, with a huge Amex bill (the NYC shopping spree has finally caught up to me!), and who doesn't really care for women cladded in white.

So, I went the adventurous route and went to the Hair Academy where young and newly graduated Hair Stylists finish their training and "build confidence" before they are farmed out to the "Spa Salons". It was the first time I had a Goth cut my hair - no I didn't come out looking like her... but I did have to give her a few pointers before I was willing to walk out of the place. It wasn't free, probably more expensive than my very experienced hairdresser back in Sydney, but oh well. I even left a $5 tip. Call it encouragement from the goodness of my heart, or just social pressures from North American tipping standards - ah well!

The first thing I did was go home and rake out the awful mushroom she blow dried my hair into. Why do they do that?? People package things to entice consumers, giving me the mushroom that added 10 years to my age, did not entice me to go back. Luckily a wash and usual finger comb-through did the trick. The only styling implement I own is a comb - if you can even call it that. And it only comes out on important days. None of this curling wand, hair dryer business.

So the cut didn't cut it (ok, that was corny) but I've at least ticked off a
"must-try-once-in-your-life" experience though - and I'll leave it that way. Next time, they will have to pay me, to get a student anywhere near my hair.