Hair: Self-snip
Though not a significant matter, my Zoom calls often begin with hair display.
Hairdressers immediately counselled clients not to cut or colour; Jonathan Van Ness said, "...because what you don't want to do is mess up your hair so bad that you're still growing that thing out after the quarantine."
But this is hair, not dialysis. I find stylist alarm sweetly possessive but extreme. If one is not going into an office, does a little drift in a self-trim sink the whole project? I thought of countless pros I'd had who had fixed another stylist's work, and twenty-something vloggers who only ever cut their own hair.
If you have absolutely straight hair cut in a precise geometric style, maybe for you the wide headband or barrettes, and long hair can wait out a few months. For the rest of us respect is due, but needs must.
In mid-March, just before the closures, I got a cut on the short side. In early April I ordered a pair of pro scissors and started watching YouTube videos for short layered cuts on curly hair, like this one.
On Saturday afternoon, I disobeyed every hairdresser's command. The delivery date for the new shears (May 16) felt a very long time away, but I had a decent, if duller pair and figured I'd try it while I could see the original style.
Here are three versions of the cut: At left, straight from the salon; centre, early Saturday morning (yes those are pyjamas) when I realized I'd better have a "before" shot.
At right is the Covid coif. Though stylists cut back to front, I cut the front first, building confidence. Le Duc held a mirror so I could see the back. That was so unnatural—working the mirror image— that if I had not already done the front I would have chickened out. But I had a stylist whom I'd long observed, and copied his technique, which is more like pruning than cutting exact layers.
Pretty decent; all that curl hides any minor wobbles. I do not hope to repeat this adventure, but bought time, and gave myself a big tip.
Two friends are doing bang trims (the wispy kind, not the sharp, straight fringe), but most have not waded in whole head—how about you?
If you colour
Colourists sang back up: don't you dare buy a box. But, really? Nearly every colourist I had for over 30 years had opened a box in the back room, and most women have at some point done their own. Excepting artful high-or-lowlights or other skill-intensive salon effects, a refresh is within reach. When the salons reopen, the baylage can come back.
If you can get enough coverage from a demi (aka semi) permanent colour that approximates your present one, use that.
Huguette has one of those four-tone jobs and is gutting it out. Laurie, who got her first look at what had been dyed for decades, decided to use three months away from the office to get a head start on going natural. Jude depends on a stash of her signature auburn. (I suggested she head toward natural colour; she is having none of it.) Susan is obeying her colourist, who is also a personal friend, but wavering more each day.
Endless celebrities are posting themselves coached through home colouring with their stylist on Zoom, applying root touch up or letting the "silver" roll in. I'm all for anything that makes us feel better during this difficult time.
Unreserved envy for my old colleague Deb, who married a hair stylist.
Hairdressers immediately counselled clients not to cut or colour; Jonathan Van Ness said, "...because what you don't want to do is mess up your hair so bad that you're still growing that thing out after the quarantine."
But this is hair, not dialysis. I find stylist alarm sweetly possessive but extreme. If one is not going into an office, does a little drift in a self-trim sink the whole project? I thought of countless pros I'd had who had fixed another stylist's work, and twenty-something vloggers who only ever cut their own hair.
If you have absolutely straight hair cut in a precise geometric style, maybe for you the wide headband or barrettes, and long hair can wait out a few months. For the rest of us respect is due, but needs must.
In mid-March, just before the closures, I got a cut on the short side. In early April I ordered a pair of pro scissors and started watching YouTube videos for short layered cuts on curly hair, like this one.
On Saturday afternoon, I disobeyed every hairdresser's command. The delivery date for the new shears (May 16) felt a very long time away, but I had a decent, if duller pair and figured I'd try it while I could see the original style.
Here are three versions of the cut: At left, straight from the salon; centre, early Saturday morning (yes those are pyjamas) when I realized I'd better have a "before" shot.
At right is the Covid coif. Though stylists cut back to front, I cut the front first, building confidence. Le Duc held a mirror so I could see the back. That was so unnatural—working the mirror image— that if I had not already done the front I would have chickened out. But I had a stylist whom I'd long observed, and copied his technique, which is more like pruning than cutting exact layers.
Pretty decent; all that curl hides any minor wobbles. I do not hope to repeat this adventure, but bought time, and gave myself a big tip.
Two friends are doing bang trims (the wispy kind, not the sharp, straight fringe), but most have not waded in whole head—how about you?
Colourists sang back up: don't you dare buy a box. But, really? Nearly every colourist I had for over 30 years had opened a box in the back room, and most women have at some point done their own. Excepting artful high-or-lowlights or other skill-intensive salon effects, a refresh is within reach. When the salons reopen, the baylage can come back.
If you can get enough coverage from a demi (aka semi) permanent colour that approximates your present one, use that.
Huguette has one of those four-tone jobs and is gutting it out. Laurie, who got her first look at what had been dyed for decades, decided to use three months away from the office to get a head start on going natural. Jude depends on a stash of her signature auburn. (I suggested she head toward natural colour; she is having none of it.) Susan is obeying her colourist, who is also a personal friend, but wavering more each day.
Endless celebrities are posting themselves coached through home colouring with their stylist on Zoom, applying root touch up or letting the "silver" roll in. I'm all for anything that makes us feel better during this difficult time.
Unreserved envy for my old colleague Deb, who married a hair stylist.
Comments
Hope you enjoyed the tip:-)
Your comment about the friend who is married to a hairstylist made me wonder who I would like to be married to right now (I am single). A chef? A professional stylist? A personal trainer? A massage therapist?
A minor problem compared to the death toll and the lack of care at many facilities, and certain politicians stirring up trouble.
I do have a good product to combat yellowing and bring out the dark and silver. So glad I no longer colour my hair other than that anti-yellowing product.
I've cut my husband's hair too. Also not too bad.
It's already down to my shoulder blades at the back, so I'm twisting it up into a casual 'French pleat' most days.
I am grateful that I don't colour it - that would be a level of hassle too far! The person I miss most is my massage therapist, rather than my hairdresser.
I never have salon manicures or pedicures (I do that stuff myself) so I do not feel the lack of them. I know of one woman who is desperate because her eyelash extensions have now shed, leaving her with an odd moth-eaten effect which she has no means of remedying. As if things were not already grim enough...
Jane in London
Fun post! Thanks and stay safe.
Ha! Looks fabulous - Curly hair always does - until, on my head, when it gets big. In other words when my hair gets to long, my husband says to me "you have big head" because it just grows wide. I cut my hair the other day for just that reason. But, it is quite difficult with my very unsharp scissors.