Growing up, I had rather long hair – it reached to just above my waist. Whenever it needed to be trimmed, I went to one of the most talented stylists in Toronto – my father. He would take the kitchen shears and chop off an even inch along the bottom.
During my first year at university, I became rather intoxicated one night and promised to chop off all of my hair. The next day, one of my friends showed up to ensure that I kept my promise and we watched while I went from waist length to just above shoulder length. I dropped the bomb to my parents about my drastic new ‘do about a week before I went home at the end of that semester. My mother promptly sent me to her guy at Vidal Sassoon to have my shortened hair properly sculpted.
After that pricey cut, I have visited the salon off and on while keeping my hair at lengths I consider short – from just below my ears to just above my shoulder blades. For a year or so back in the late 90’s, I attempted to dye my dark locks red both professionally and with an at-home kit. Both methods were a waste of money as no-one could see any of the highlights unless I stood under direct light at just the right angle.
Since that time, I have been seeing the newest and most fashionable stylist I’ve ever had attend to my follicle needs – my husband. Some might call this method proof that I’m cheap, but I prefer to say that it is my way of demonstrating my love and trust in Hubby. That, and I’m too cheap to pay someone $50 to cut my hair when Hubby does it for free. (I also cut his hair using the clippers every month or so.)
Of course, Hubby, for all that I love him, isn’t, perhaps, the most talented hairdresser ever. Take today’s haircut. I pointed to a spot just below my shoulders as the line he should aim for. My hair now curls just under my chin.
In the name of full disclosure, I should say the following: no matter if he cuts it on an angle, cuts it too short, or cuts is slightly unevenly, Hubby always makes my hair look good. After my hair dried this afternoon, I brushed and styled it and realized that my shorter-than-anticipated style was actually rather flattering and pretty.
So, you can go see Pedro at Vidal, or Mike at the Hair Cuttery, I’m going to keep on seeing the best stylist in town for the money – my wonderful husband.