So. On a particularly bad hair day, two days after futilely trying to reach my hairdresser, I started chopping. As mounds of hair fell around me, I felt better. Lighter somehow.
The extent of the damage was only realized when I looked in the mirror the next day. OMG! What have I done? The realization did nothing to lift me out of the neverland where I have been residing of late.
Today, I was finally able to see the stylist. Why? She asked. What could I say?
She tried to repair the damage, at least even it out, but her efforts seem to have made it worse. Well. Hair grows. At least that is what I am trying to tell myself.
been there. . .done that.
you can't hide a bad haircut on straight hair.