Dear Marc, know that Patek Philippe ad? The "You never actually own a Patek Philippe watch, you merely look after it for the next generation." That's how I feel about my hair. "You never actually own your hair, you merely look after it for your hair dresser."
Every time I see my hair dresser, the apologies begin. Too much time in the sun, salt water, nursing, using the wrong products, the wrong kind of ponytail holder, blow drying and eating and drinking wrong. My hair dresser listens. Then sighs. Then adds he will do his best, but he can't promise anything.
My current hair dresser is the best I'll ever have, so I feel ok with borrowing my hair from him. It's so intimate, the relationship with your hair dresser. Who does your hair?
One time, leaving a different hair dresser, I was not happy. I looked silly. But I didn't dare fix my hair in the salon, too afraid to hurt the hair dresser's feelings. I went outside and tried to style my hair in the reflection of a window. Meanwhile, someone pick pocketed this vain coward. My vanity cost me my newly cashed paycheck and a new wallet.
The police report states "Guner lost her wallet, standing in the street, looking in a mirror. Guner does not know what happened".
I have so many police reports of that kind. They paint the picture of a mindless fool. "Guner lost her bag. Guner does not know where or how it happened." "Guner left her wallet on the bar desk".
Now Guner has forgotten the laundry and must go take care of that.
Love
-e
ps. Wouldn't you love to have a heirloom hairpiece?
"Great hair, Marc!"
"Oh thanks, but it's not mine. I simply look after it for the next generation. And for my hair dresser."
2 comments:
i adore you.
and i adore marc.
i thought you should know.
Leaving a hair dresser is the worst. Or when you go to a cheaper hair dresser that's convenient to where you work and then you have to make up some sort of lie about how a "friend of yours" really messed up your hair or something because basically you've been cheating. It's just like you've had an affair.
If you ever leave your hair dresser and then see them around town the exact same type of conversation happens as if you'd bumped into your ex.
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