Story of my life. I used to dye it myself until after one too many botched jobs I consented to get it done by a professional. However, on one of my most recent adventures, the hairdresser let me walk out with my hair the color of gold straw. It sounds fine but next to my skin it looked fluorescent. She knew it too because she went and got another stylist to help her fix it. She put toner in it but given the bright color I walked out with I am curious to know how bright it was before.
So I ventured forth a few days later to someone I believed was an even more experienced colorist. She works at a reputable salon and the receptionist said she was the best. She seemed confident in what she was doing but when my hair was finally washed and dried I was shocked at the result.
I looked like a skunk. Seriously.
My hair was so dark that it made the blonde in it look almost white and blended in places to an almost gray color. I couldn't believe it. When she asked if I liked it I was speechless. I feel guilty telling stylists when I don't like a coloring job or hair cut they do. It's really too bad because I usually just leave, cry my eyes out, and then never go back. I've been to so many stylists it's outrageous.
So in response I gently asked why it was so stripey. It was supposed to be the "ombre" style which is when it's all one color on top. She said she thought that's how I wanted it but it just looked like she gave me really bad highlights. Thinking back I wonder if she knew it wasn't what she meant to do because she told me it'd be when it grew out.
Grew out? I was sitting there thinking I don't want to pay to color my hair so it's perfect after it grows out. She knew I was unhappy though so she immediately said we should schedule another appointment to get it exactly how I want it.
I am puzzled by the notion that, when it happens, stylists can work on your hair for two hours, charge you an exorbitant amount then rave about how it's the best job they've ever done and you're sitting there looking in the mirror thinking, how am I going to show my face outside of this building. People have to see me like this? How can I live with the shame that is this mop on my head? Maybe I'm too picky or precise. Whatever the case may be. I am almost to the point where I might just have to give up and let my natural color grow completely in and let it be. I can't deal with the stress that is my hair.
So we'll see if she can wave some kind of a magic wand tomorrow and fix the damage that has been done. It's just exhausting.
Wish me luck.
Update: I went back Saturday morning and she took the gold flecks out, like I said, neutralized the white streaks, like I asked, and voila! My hair was the color of dirty mop water. I went home, let out a good grouping of tears, then trudged to the grocery store, bought a box of light brown and dyed it myself. Goodbye $120, goodbye C, goodbye L&A salon that I will not venture too again. Til next time ladies.....seriously, I have an appointment elsewhere October 18th. The saga continues....