Three weeks ago, I returned to my posh salon to get my hair trimmed.
My stylist from last time no longer worked there, so I was switched to a very trendy woman with a very trendy haircut, very trendy clothes, and very trendy make-up.
To say we were a bit different is a bit of an understatement, as I had my hair in a ponytail and was sporting an Old Navy pullover and my maternity jeans - don't judge, it was Laundry Day at the Smith House (and they are SO comfortable...)
I digress.
She snipped and snipped and snipped.
And it looked good when she finished.
Besides the fact she had given me a middle part. Are those in now?
However, Judgement Day came when I was left to fix it myself.
I shampooed, I blow-dried, I straightened.
Then I looked up in the mirror, and saw this:
Yes, my friends, I had been Billy Ray'ed.
It wasn't pretty.
It still isn't pretty, but it's growing.
You can remedy a Billy Ray situation with pulling it back as much as possible.
I bet you'll notice that in my pictures now, right?
Dang it.
Happy Friday!
A few years ago, after about an hour and a half of snipping and styling, my stylist said, "Oh my gosh, you look like a rockstar." I don't have a rockstar attitude and DEFINITELY can't pull off the look so I panicked. When she spun me around, all I could see was my inch-long bangs and about 9 layers of choppy hair framing my face.
ReplyDelete