I just read an article in "Glow" Magazine (the magazine that Shoppers Drug Mart puts out with the odd article, essentially just showcasing all the shit they want you to buy at Shoppers Drug Mart) saying in winter it is best to wash your hair twice a week.
Twice a week?
First of all, not gonna sell a lot of shampoo that way, Shoppers!
Then I got thinking.... I just had to blow a good chunk of change to fix my horrible hair.
It was a deal forleopard spotting bleach 2" from my roots highlights and a butchering cut from one of those "deal sites" where they oversold themselves and in turn hired some random people who "may" or "may not" be ACTUAL hairdressers.
I have no doubt in my mind that Polished & Pampered Wellness hired Coulda just been random people armed with damaging bleach and determination. One never really knows these things.
I can't be certain, but it's possible that the girl that did my hair was related to the Travelocity Travelling gnome, was sprinting through Hamilton, and was given a job opportunity she SHOULD have refused.
I digress.
The orange/spotted/leopard/hack job that resulted was pretty awesome.
Just... tear-inducingly horrific awesome.
I'd post a picture, but I was too vain to have that shit documented.
So, after getting my money back (because the "salon" was a joke and ended up COSTING me 6 times the cost of the voucher to get my "hair did" properly), my hair is now totally fried.
Back to the hairwashing... maybe if I wear enough perfume AND hats, I can salvage the white-blonde-straw that I am currently fashioning as hair, via less damage by jumping on this minimalist hair washing bandwagon.
I almost feel deceived. Even at the NEW, qualified salon, the stylist cut SO MUCH HAIR OFF, then thinned it for good measure. You know, ensuring a mullet-like-style with regrowth.... trying to fix it.
But she flat ironed it all purrrdy, and it looked reasonable.
Then I went to a wedding.
And drank far too much.
And acted like a drunkard.
And broke my toe.
And came home.
And cleaned up puppy shit for 3 hours (another day, another blog post).
And then showered and washed my hair.
Dear god, it's like a dehydrated lion. A dehydrated lion with zebra stripes.
No V-O-5 hot oil can even begin to smooth this hot, or rather, dry, mess. (You know what else is a hot mess? My comma use. Another day, another blog post).
So... perhaps in an effort to keep the over-dyed, unhealthy, over-bleached, under appreciated hair that is left on my head, I may reduce hair washing.
Lord have mercy on my pillow.
And the complexion at my hairline.
_____________________
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Twice a week?
First of all, not gonna sell a lot of shampoo that way, Shoppers!
Then I got thinking.... I just had to blow a good chunk of change to fix my horrible hair.
It was a deal for
I can't be certain, but it's possible that the girl that did my hair was related to the Travelocity Travelling gnome, was sprinting through Hamilton, and was given a job opportunity she SHOULD have refused.
I digress.
The orange/spotted/leopard/hack job that resulted was pretty awesome.
Just...
I'd post a picture, but I was too vain to have that shit documented.
 |
| The hair I wanted. (Via) |
 |
| Essentially, what I got. (Various Sources). |
So, after getting my money back (because the "salon" was a joke and ended up COSTING me 6 times the cost of the voucher to get my "hair did" properly), my hair is now totally fried.
Back to the hairwashing... maybe if I wear enough perfume AND hats, I can salvage the white-blonde-straw that I am currently fashioning as hair, via less damage by jumping on this minimalist hair washing bandwagon.
I almost feel deceived. Even at the NEW, qualified salon, the stylist cut SO MUCH HAIR OFF, then thinned it for good measure. You know, ensuring a mullet-like-style with regrowth.... trying to fix it.
But she flat ironed it all purrrdy, and it looked reasonable.
Then I went to a wedding.
And drank far too much.
And acted like a drunkard.
And broke my toe.
And came home.
And cleaned up puppy shit for 3 hours (another day, another blog post).
And then showered and washed my hair.
Dear god, it's like a dehydrated lion. A dehydrated lion with zebra stripes.
No V-O-5 hot oil can even begin to smooth this hot, or rather, dry, mess. (You know what else is a hot mess? My comma use. Another day, another blog post).
So... perhaps in an effort to keep the over-dyed, unhealthy, over-bleached, under appreciated hair that is left on my head, I may reduce hair washing.
Lord have mercy on my pillow.
And the complexion at my hairline.
_____________________
