oh, dear...
As it became clear I needed a trim desperately, I had to take on the task of finding a stylist to start fresh with again (my last cut being during our vacation in New York, and not quite yet jet-setty enough to whisk off whenever I please and all). I got Twitter input, consulted a few of my hair goddess friends (ahem Sarah ahem), decided to be brave, and then two hours before my appointment got a staggering case of The Bok Bok Boks (that's chicken language, my friends). I decided I'd just get my layers shaped up and sidle off quietly hoping everyone I'd bothered and pleaded with for hair opinions would maybe just not notice.
BUT.
Turns out, this new stylist I found...he's not afraid. In fact, he kind of took one look at me and the candy-ass photos of mediocrity I brought with me and suggested I go for it. He had a sample photo of his own from his recent training session with Nick Arrojo (oops, did you drop a name, there?) which was much more brave than what I was prepared for by the time I came in. He said, "let's try this, but a little longer and less bold, and see how you like it". And also, "can we curl it?" Um, yes. And, yes. Thank you, Greg, of g.michael Salon. Thank you for making the transition quite painless and, might I even say, not sucktastic in the least.
