Feathery hair fuzz blows off my right shoulder. I am sitting in a stylist chair at Vidal Sassoon. I have signed up to be a hair model because I need a haircut and it’s free. All I have to do is hand over my head of brunette hair to the mercy of a stylist. Richie greets me and tells me he’s going to give me a fabulous new look. A woman with asymmetric hair asks if she can get me tea or coffee. I grind my teeth, hoping my hair remains one length. First thing that happens is I become blonde. Excitement yelps me out of my seat. Fear chases it with the vague statistic of how bad bleach is for hair. That one out of a hundred bleach jobs cause a fatal reaction where your hair completely falls out. The bleach ingredients are made. I entrust myself entirely.
Whenever you go out for free anything there's always a risk. With hair, they expect you to be open. You have become their blank canvas and they are creating a new you. The results most of the time are impressive. The first time I went to Vidal Sassoon they dyed my hair the color of chili peppers. I felt instantly refreshed and new.
I’ve seen disappointment form on the faces of girls with blue hair and bowl haircuts.
Luckily, I like my new hair. Richie adds a streak of pink. The results look striking like a semiprecious stone surrounded by starchy white rocks. It was an adventure.
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