Help! I Got a Haircut I Hate, Now What?

In between jobs (yay, I got a new one!) I got a haircut. It seemed like a reasonable thing to do: new job, new me. I bought a trusty Groupon haircut, and was on my merry way. I didn't even think much about what I wanted. I always get a bob that's longer in the front than it is in the back. I think it makes me look regal and thins out my face a bit. However, I'm down for something new: new job, new haircut, new me.

Image attribution: Her Interest

Image attribution: Her Interest

So I tell the stylist, "I'm open to other options." He plays with my hair a bit, gives me a ton of compliments on how nice my hair is and then suggests an asymmetrical bob. I have an image like this in my head (right). You know, two different lengths but still professional, classy and -- well, there still being some length to the hair. 

I verbatim said, "Don't worry, I trust you." I did. I met this guy ten minutes before and was already fully trusting him. Maybe this is why my dating life goes so poorly, but this sidebar will become irrelevant very shortly. "Shortly" Is a good segue into the rest of the story. 

The stylist is lathering up my hair, telling me about his previous store, what excites him about cutting hair and other small talk. He promises me we'll go slow (ew, I don't love that phrase, but pressing on). 

He combs my hair and the scissors come out, like most haircuts begin. We begin in the back of my head, and he shows me where he'd like to cut. It's totally reasonably. I've had bobs shorter than that before. I'm feeling good. We move to the left side of my head (the long side of the asymmetrical bob) and we pace ourselves. A little snip, another one and we're missing a nice chunk of hair, but still feeling good.

Then we move to the short side. He puts his fingers on my hair, and I'm still feeling good. Then we snip and my heart drops. I can feel my legs shake immediately, and I'm not even exaggerating. I felt my stomach roll.

I'm missing hair on the right side of my face below the ear.

But I breathe, I mean this guy is an expert. 

Image Attribution: Know Your Meme

Image Attribution: Know Your Meme

The ledge I was on? I'm climbing off of it. I mean, he won't just leave it this way. Right?

He pulse checks me, and I have a hard time speaking. As in, he can't get me to confirm that I'm still breathing -- maybe ten minutes after I promise the guy I trust him (and as a cherry on top, I've already said I have never cried after a haircut). 

Haircuts look bad before they're done. A bit of styling will help this cut. Right?

haircut panic

I can feel the tumbles in my stomach as I think about showing up to my new job looking like the girl from The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Nothing says, "I promise I'm a good hire!" like a risky haircut.

I yoga breath a bit more and promise myself it's not that bad. 

bad haircut

I give the guy the benefit of the doubt and encourage him to finish (ew, I need to stop with this nonsense). Then again, I'm missing most of my hair on the ride side of my face, what other options do we have? 

As we're closing in on the end of the haircut, he's panicking. I'm largely unresponsive other than vague words like, "It's okay," and "Just different, but not bad." 

Why am I saying these things? Because I actually feel bad for the guy. He's in full panic mode. He can tell I hate it, and there's just no recovery. He offered to keep cutting, but that seems like it would only make things worse. I just want to leave. Maybe vomit, but mostly just find my way to a store and buy every headband there.

I thank him, tip him (I'm part of the problem) and promise not to write a bad review of his place (which I am holding true). Then I text everyone I know to beg them to not make fun of me when they see me. My self-confidence has been pretty low lately. I've gained some weight, and now I've got a traumatic haircut. Not a great way to head into this new job opportunity. I needed some support. Thankfully I got a lot of that!

What to do after a bad haircut 

  • First off, stop calling it a "bad haircut," and instead label it "not for you." It makes it sting less.
  • Also, take this as an opportunity to treat yo-self. I spent $60 at Target buying curling irons, pins, many headbands and a planner (unrelated to the hair situation) immediately after the cut. 
  • Use this soccer-mom / emo hipster haircut to learn how to style your hair! I've already invested some time in learning how to curl my hair (which is a goal anyway of mine for 26). 
  • Then, weigh your options. He said he'd fix it for free (he's terrified of me and my ability to type things online, which is kind of sad because I wish he was more concerned about my feelings and not just what I can write). Maybe I should get the other side lopped off too (I might end up looking like my dad at that point). 
  • And then the final step is to go to free yoga, set your intention to forgive the situation and get the fuck over it. It's hair. Remember, hair is hair. There are so many other things to be concerned about, and so many more bad things that could have happened. I'm going to figure out how to either rock it or style it. The guy genuinely wanted to give me a cool haircut and he wasn't trying to make me look ridiculous. That was just a byproduct. 

Bonus tip: When all else fails, tell yourself you "Did it for the story," because that's how Cazey and I positively spin most awkward life experiences.