www.inkthinkerblog.com — Last week, while I was in Maryland conducting interviews for a book project I’ve been hired to write, I decided on a whim to get a trim before heading back south. My bangs had been driving me bonkers all morning, and the Panera where I stopped for lunch was right next to a discount hair place that I won’t name, but which rhymes with Flair Watery (pronounced the Jersey way: WHUT-ery).
This is what the “stylist” (and I use the term loosely) did to me: 
You can see the eight feet of bangs (I don’t know why she thought they needed to start practically on the back of my head), but what you can’t see is the huge chunks she took out of the back (her version of layering) and the bizarre feathering she put around my face. And may I remind you that this was supposed to be A TRIM???
I looked like a cross between someone’s grandma, a standard poodle, an early 1900s schoolmarm, and a Wal-Mart greeter from 1987. Hence, the immediate bun and look of utter distress.
I put in a frantic call to a friend’s salon and managed to get an appointment for just a few days later, so that was a relief. I had that I-just-fell-out-of-a-Gap-commercial look for a few days, with all of the bandanas I was wearing to cover up the disaster on my head, but I was hopeful that it would all be worthwhile, that Jodi would fix everything.
Jodi has been cutting hair professionally since 1986, and she said it was the absolute worst haircut she’d ever seen. AND, she had to cut it off to my CHIN to salvage it, it was so bad in the back. So I went from long locks to this:
But, as you can see, I’m glad I don’t look like a grand-poodle-marm-greeter anymore… Now, to get used to my sudden baldness…
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