I put pictures of myself all over the internet every single day. I am the first person clients and customers see when they walk through the doors of my office. I am a young mother of three still trying to convince people I have it all together. Andplusalso? I like to look good.
So last week, I took off early from work (earned!) on a Friday, drove downtown, paid a ridiculous fee for parking (seriously, Windsor? $3.50 and I got 2 hours? Ridic.) and waited to get my hair done. For real done, by a trained professional. Want to know a secret? The last time I got my hair cut professionally was 11 months ago. The last time I paid for professional highlights? I literally can’t remember. It’s been all at home from-the-box colouring and cross-your-fingers trimming into the bathroom sink for me in the hairstyle department. So, ever frugal/cheap, I waited for a Groupon to come around with a great deal and snagged it- cut and highlights for $45. I’ll take it!
As I sat in the little waiting room flicking through my Twitter stream, wrapping my split ends around my finger and glanced around, I started to get this incredibly odd feeling of everyone staring at me. No one was, but I couldn’t shake it. I’m not a self-conscious person so this was odd for me. There was a squat man in what looked like jean capris blowing out some lady’s overprocessed frizz hair in the corner. A flamboyant young lady chatting up a storm about her “super-fun-oh-mah-gah-girls-night” to my right. I rolled my eyes and then it hit me…
Here I was, working mother, in practically the middle of the day, not a child in sight doing something frivolous for myself. It felt rebellious. How dumb. Trust me, my life is not so boring so as to make a salon the ultimate outing for the month, but somehow not keeping up with my routine had thrown me for a loop. A good loop. I like rebellion. Suddenly I giggled out loud (ok so then people were really staring) and took another sip of my Coke. I confessed to the hairdresser how long it had been since I’d sat in a stylists chair, snagged that “before” shot in the mirror that every razzle-dazzle girl gets to put up on Instagram and settled into the dryer, enjoying the hum and my digital copy of The Hunger Games.
I’m not too fussy with my hair and kind of made a wild last-minute decision to go with copper highlights instead of the safe deep brown colour…who’s the rebel now? Wha-BAM! (oh quiet, it felt incredibly decadent and you would have laughed at me. Trust.) When the hairdresser asked me about the special occasion I was getting all dolled up for was, I laughed out loud and said: it’s frozen pizza night. Take that oh-mah-gah-girls-night-chick!
And that’s just what I did. I walked to my car, flipping my new pretty hair over my shoulder, feeling really good about my choice to wear my red heels, and then walked in my front door to my fashion-forward six year old saying: “Wow Mom. Niiiice hair. It’s…awesome!” And it was.