Yesterday I went and got my hair cut. I wanted a new style and it was in pretty desperate need of one. The last time I had it cut was April, where the lady asked me to “Stand up please!” and to my shock cut my hair while I was standing in front of her.
My hair is not that long (mid back) and I am 5’6″. She did a crappy job and I left her a crappy tip.
Anyway, oddness aside, this time I got a bubbly stylist who chatted me up through the whole thing. Mostly about product.
“Y’all ever tried this one? Makes your hair sooo shiny honey. And this is one of my favorites, com’on over and let me try a little.”
Volume was also discussed in detail. “And this cut will make your hair a lot bigger. Lots of fullness. Big, big hair.”
She was adorable with her accent.
Leaving myself in her hands with instructions to become Sofia Vergara’s twin sister (identical twin, not the kind that makes you think, “How sad that they’re twins”) I decided to let her do whatever.
And so my hair was worked and lathered and oiled and pushed and volumned and diffused and sprayed.
And sprayed again.
And when she spun me around, my eyes nearly jumped out of my head.
My hair? Was GIGANTIC.
Seeing the look of shock on my face, she assured me with her southern drawl, “Don’t you worry one bit honey, I haven’t put in the hairspray yet to tease it up.”
“Oh no,” I choked out, “I don’t want it any bigger!”
She pursed her lips and looked at me hard in the mirror. “I don’t understand. If I don’t put the hairspray in, it won’t stay like this for long. Honey,” she grabbed the can her fingers had been itching to touch, “you’ve just got to have the hairspray.”
And so I did.
I knew the actual cut was what I wanted, it was the style I didn’t. I figured I’d do my errands like this then run home and wash it out.
I paid her with my hair billowing around me, trying not to smooth it down in front of her. I wondered if anyone else would think it looked ok or like I had run into a small tornado. Filled with hairspray. Then I heard, “Y’all, doesn’t her hair look cute? Oh, your hair looks just perfect!”
I spun around pleasantly surprised at this. And standing before me was a woman with the most massive hair I’ve ever seen – so big you could have easily fit a small child in it. She was beaming at me. Her friends with equally large hair were all nodding.
“Thank you,” I said trying not to giggle as I walked out the door. Because it just hit me what had happened. I live in Texas now.
And everything really is bigger in Texas.