How to Fix the Mess Your Stylist Made

Years ago, I was involved in small amateur hair modeling. The typical arrangement is for the model to do her work, then the salon owner will pay in future hair services or product. One such scenario ended in hair disaster. I had done a runway show for a big name salon successfully and had come into see the owner for my first ‘payment’. In all my previous gigs, the owner always did my hair. Not this time.

The owner directed me to a chair of another girl, who was an apprentice and would be doing my hair under the owner’s supervision. She was young and nervous. If supervision means using peripheral vision whilst doing ten million other things, then yes, she was supervising.

I told Ms. Nervous I wanted red tips. Looking back, red tips was the worst idea I could have asked a budding stylist fresh out of beauty school. My hair was very short by this point, with longer, disconnected blonde shards throughout the front that tapered into a 1-inch layer in the back, above my neck. It was a great cut but in no way was my hair prepared for the red mess this girl tried to do freehand on me that day.

The front section, being longer shards, looked pretty good. It did not occur to me to look at the back of my head. Once home, I took a better look at it. The back, being very short and guy style, looked like a leopard print mess. The blonde was poking through in round spots. I immediately understood the funny look on the inexperienced apprentice’s face during my service. I was mortified, knowing there is no way to hide this.

I’ve always been quick on my feet. I immediately called my friend, a stylist, to borrow some hair dye. I re-colored my hair that night. I did the best I could to fix it, however, my red was lighter than what the stylist had used so it was still spotty, although less obviously so. I went to work the next day with a scarf on my head. I ended up getting a color correction service done with the owner of that salon, where the owner apologized for the whole mess. I firmly believe in going back to the salon where the incident occurred and allowing them to fix it. Never going back (which is many women’s reaction) never helps anyone to learn from their mistakes. I, for one, like feedback and to be told if I did something incorrectly. It furthers my potential.

I have done a number of things to my hair, from having my hair cut into a pixie from waist-length, to trying pink highlights and a faux-hawk with designs shaved into the side of my head (which some of my friends would argue was my worst disaster). Nothing prepared me for the leopard-patterned hair color that would make me halt anymore modeling practices. I was not immune to vanity as much as I prided myself in being immune to it. I came to a humble conclusion that I was done with modeling. Let someone else be a guinea pig.

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