5 Myths about hairstylists

Being a hairstylist is really fun. I get to meet and make friends with all sorts of people, stay on the cusp of fashion trends, and make people feel beautiful!

But over the last 6 years of doing hair, I've realized that there are several common misconceptions about the beauty industry, and those of us working in it.
Let's put those to rest, shall we?

Myth #1; My stylist is only trying to sell me product to make money.
Here's the deal. My main goal, as a stylist, is for you to leave my chair with gorgeous, healthy hair. Essentially, all I'm trying to do is make you happy. And product is a huge part of that.
We use product to strengthen your hair, enhance your style, and help you recreate the look at home. Yes, when we sell product, we typically make a little bit of money. But stylists usually only recommend product because your hair really needs it.
I would rather give products away for free and have my clients walk out the door with beautiful hair, than sell buckets of product to someone who doesn't need it.

Myth #2: I could do what my stylist does.

I've had clients sit in my chair and make comments that they could do my job for me.
On average, hairstylists spend thousands of dollars, and years on their education. We learn cutting, coloring, and styling techniques, client consultation services, and how to use our dangerous and complicated tools. We even go to business and tax classes. We also spend a lot of time and money on continuing education classes, sometimes as often as once a month. Part of the joy of working in the beauty industry is that it is always changing; styles come and go, and trends are continuously morphing. Which means that we are always re-learning our trade. We love what we do, and we want to be the best at it!
Please don't think that we just pick up a pair of scissors and become a pro; just like any career, we've have a lot of training to do what we do.

Yours truly, circa 2010

Myth #3: My stylist cut too much off cause she's mean, untalented, or simply didn't listen.

We've all had it happen. We go to the salon and the stylist goes on a cutting spree. She's horrible, right? Well, maybe not.
I can't tell you how many times a client has sat in my chair and said, "I just want the dead ends cut off." To me, that may mean 4 inches. To the client, that's only 1/2 inch. Communication is key! Chances are, if your stylist does something you don't like, they thought they were doing what you wanted. Tell your stylist exactly what you want, bring pictures, be clear. And if your cut is over, and you aren't happy, say so! We will either fix it ourselves, or help you find someone else who can. We want you to leave happy!

Myth #4: I can go get a consultation at a salon and then buy the service/product at drugstore.

I could go on an on with this one, folks. I know that you can go to Target and find Redken products for cheap, but chances are that those products are absolutely not legit. The products that we sell in salons are not guaranteed when not sold by a licensed professional,  as seen on my shampoo:

"Exclusive salon distribution"
If you find these products outside of a salon, you have found a counterfeit. In the beauty industry, this is called Diversion. These products are often expired or discontinued. I'll never remember the day in hair school, when one of our instructors brought a pile of products she had bought at local drugstores. One of the bottles was filled with dish soap. Gross.
The real kicker is that you probably aren't even getting a deal. At several salons I've worked at, we purposefully priced our products a few cents cheaper than Walmart and Target.
Buy your products from your stylist. Not only are you guaranteed to get the real deal, you are also getting a consultation that is customized just for your individual hair.
This blog post explains Diversion really well:
http://www.xojane.com/beauty/why-you-should-avoid-salon-products-at-the-drugstore

Myth #5: I know my stylist from school/church/PTA, so she won't mind giving me a discount.
While most stylists run specials from time to time, it is totally not ok to expect free or discounted service simply because you know each other outside of the salon!
Doing hair pays my bills. It is my career, and I need to be paid just like you and everyone else on this planet.
I know that some salon services are expensive, and who doesn't love saving a buck, but stylists work very hard and deserve to be paid accordingly. If a service costs more than your budget allows, let your stylist know. "I can't afford that right now," is something we've all heard, and understand. Call the salon first and ask for an estimate price. Be flexible and communicate, and your stylist will try to do the same.

Hairstylists want you to leave happy, so if there is anything we love, it's communication! Tell your stylist what you expect, what you hope your hair to look like, your budget, and voice any questions or concerns. Your hair will thank you!

Carrie's favorite story

Guys, I think this is seriously the most embarrassing story of my life, and one of my Carrie-sister's all time faves.

Honestly, I've shared pretty much all my embarrassing stories with you. Like the time I flashed my dance class, or the time I drooled in front of my crush, or when my kids made a serious mess in the library, and when I got in the wrong car at Target.

I am a firm believer that being able to laugh at myself is one of my strongest traits. So I usually have no problems sharing some of my most humiliating antics.

But I have never shared this story. Until now.

Precursor: 

If you are under the impression that I have never passed gas, turn back now. That's right, folks, this story is about flatulence.

Travel with me in your mind, back about 5 1/2 years ago. Brandon and I were newlyweds, I was pregnant with our first daughter, and we were both in school. 

Now, as a young couple with no children, Brandon and I spent most of our free time laughing and joking with one another. We had a lot more time on our hands to watch movies, laugh at elaborate inside jokes, and create silly traditions.

Of of these jokes, was probably the silliest thing you'll ever hear. Whenever one of us would pass gas, we would say, in the most ridiculous southern accent, "I tooted!" (With the accent, it sounded a bit like "Ah tee-you-ted!")

Every time. At first it was just a funny thing to say, then it became habit. I don't think either of us realized we said it anymore. Which was fine; it was just the two of us.

Until one day it wasn't.

I was in hair school at the time, and one afternoon, I was sitting in the break room at the school with about 15 other students. I had wedged my pregnant self onto a table with 2 of my friends, because the chairs in the room were all full. As we sat there chatting, I felt a fart coming.

I tried to hold it in, I really did, but sometimes these things can't be helped.

It broke loose, and without thinking about it, I announced to the whole room, "I tooted!" rather loudly, in the accent and everything.

Everyone stopped and stared at me. Crickets chirped.

One of the friends sitting next to me looked at me like I was crazy, and said "Did you really?" 

What was I to do?!? If I own up to it, they all think I'm gross. If I lie, and say that I was just kidding, then I'm the weird girl who interrupted an entire room of conversation to falsely announce that I let one rip. 

Guys, I owned up to it. I quietly answered that yes, I had in fact tooted. They all continue to stare. 

I decided to run. I excused myself to go check my phone or some other transparent excuse, and tried to quickly and quietly sneak from the room. But, being pregnant, and sitting up on a table, this wasn't an easy task. As I scooted inch by inch to the edge of the table where I could perform my dismount, all eyes were still on me. And I'm pretty sure the intensity of my blush actually singed my eyebrows.

Here's the kicker. The fart was actually quiet enough, that had I kept my mouth shut, chances are that no one would have noticed at all. 

I came home from school that day, told Brandon that we had to break that habit immediately, and seriously considered wearing a bag over my head to school the next day.

I love being a hairstylist.

About 6  years ago, I decided to go to hair school. 

Brandon and I were engaged at the time, and I had gone to three years of college without picking a major...and without passing many classes. I felt stuck. I came to the realization that traditional college was just not for me. I knew that I wanted to get some sort of education, and that I wanted to be able to work while being a mom in the future. One day, Brandon mentioned that he thought I'd make a good hairstylist. And so I decided.

At first, I went to hair school because it was a fun career. I would get to choose my own hours, be in the know when it comes to fashion trends, and never have to pay for a haircut again! It wasn't until I started really working with clients, that I learned that there's so much more.

I get to help people feel good about themselves on a daily basis. There is a visible change in people when they leave a salon with a fabulous new do. They feel lighter, happier, like they can conquer the world, and it's so exciting to be a part of that change!

One of my favorite moments of my career was when I received a message from the husband of one of my clients. I had cut her hair a few days before, and was surprised when I heard from him. He told me that I had no idea how much I helped his wife, that she was on cloud nine for days after her haircuts from me. He thanked me for helping his busy wife feel as beautiful on the outside as she was on the inside. It brought tears to my eyes. 

This is why I love being a hairstylist. I get to help people feel happy. I get to help people love themselves, inside and out.

What more could you want?

Eating the Backyard

When I was in hair school, I was prego with Portia. Which means I was in a constant state of the hungries.

There were about 7 or 8 pregnant girls there while I was, and we basically spent all day every day, sitting in the kitchen munching (and by munching, I mean scarfing.) 

One of our favorite snacks was this:

One of our teachers had a garden, and brought tons of fresh cucumbers and cherry tomatoes every week. We would slice them up, add salt and pepper, and drizzle them with Italian dressing. Then we'd eat them till they ran out.

When I was younger, my mom had a garden, and we'd call this sort of snack "eating the backyard."

Like a rabbit. 

my proudest moment

Guys, I am going to tell you the story of one of the times I was most proud of myself.

I like to think I'm kinda funny. I tend to rely on humor in awkward situations and when I'm nervous, and I love making people laugh. I think most of the time my jokes are pretty lame, but every once in a while, I come up with a doozy.

This happened a few years, while I was pregnant with Portia. I was in hair school at the time, along with several other pregnant girls. Now, the way my school worked, there was a new class of students that started every month, usually about 6 or 7 people. Inevitably, in every class, there is at least one 17 year old girl who just graduated high school. Wide-eyed and slightly terrified about the amount of crazy-looking people in hair school, probably wondering what she got herself into, she is fun to mess with.
Every Tuesday were "Don Days," Which means that we would all gather in a room and listen to the owner, Don, drone on for hours about how to seduce our male clients and that we all needed to work out more. Thrilling.
I remember one particular Don Day, when I was nearing the end of my pregnancy, therefore huge. I took my usual spot in the back (so I could sleep unnoticed) and hunkered down for 2 hours of nonsense, when the new class of future hairstylists filed in.
 There she was. The small and scared 17 year old girl. She sat next to me, leaning back in my chair, giant belly on display. We made a little small talk and she started to loosen up a bit. Just then, Portia did her infamous triple back handspring across my stomach.
For those of you who have never been prego and may not be aware, as your baby gets bigger and the extra space in your body gets smaller, you can start to see your baby moving from the outside. And as huge as I get, every tiny kick from my babies is viewed.
Like I said, Portia started her floor routine just as the girl next to me glanced at my belly. She jumped and gasped, horrified that she was witnessing this.

Here it is. My best joke ever.

I leaned closer to her and said in a low, and slightly creepy voice, "Have you ever seen Alien?" She nodded, and then as the implication set in, gasped again, and looked like she was going to barf.

Guys, I want you to take a moment and visualize this moment. It was hilarious.
Are you visualizing?
Good.

Take as long as you need to laugh your head off.

That, ladies and gentlemen, is my proudest moment.