Monday, September 04, 2006

Shaggy Dog

No. This is not a post about the Tim Allen movie. Or the original 1959 version starring Fred MacMurray. This about my very un-Country Girl willingness to settle for a North Carolina haircut and the fact that my NY-based stylist to the stars has cancelled my last 3 appointments (4 if you count the appointment his brother cancelled). Which leaves me feeling...Shaggy.

A look at the calendar shows that Oscar last cut my hair on January 28th, 2006. At the time, I wasn't particularly interested in my hair. In fact, if anything, I was interested in growing it long so 6 months between cuts was normal. I was going for long sexy Gisele-style waves and routine maintenance was unneccessary.

Then came the move to North Carolina. So I scheduled a prophylactic cut with Oscar the day before I left figuring that a good cut could carry me - whatever my hair needs - at least a few months. That appointment was cancelled when Tom Cruise came to town and required Oscar's services as he cut a swath through NYC promoting MI:3.

By mid-June, with 6 months of growth weighing heavy on my shoulders, I did succumb and see a stylist in Charlotte. Of course - I didn't let him do much - just trim some of the dead ends. He claimed he stayed within the guidelines of my existing haircut. I wasn't sure (and to tell you the truth, there wasn't much of a haircut at that point). But the whole experience of putting myself in a stranger's hands was very anxiety-provoking. I've been through enough stylists and suffered enough bad haircuts to be on my guard when it comes to making changes. Besides, it didn't really matter how he cut my hair because the haircut was sort of lost on me as the day I got it, I came home to the first of 2 dead goats and a basement full of water.

None of this concerned me as I knew that semi-frequent trips to NY would get me back in Oscar's chair eventually.

A trip planned for mid-August allowed me to schedule a much-needed appointment with Oscar. Although I never made the trip, that appointment was cancelled as well (I don't know why) and in my mind, the cancellation still counts.

I had an appointment scheduled for next weekend, but that appointment has been cancelled because Oscar decided to extend his summer vacation for 2 weeks. I am beginning to feel partcularly frustrated because in my role as Director of Marketing for a hedge fund, I feel like I need a slightly more professional style than the mop of curls currently sprouting forth from my scalp.

I am having flashes to Melanie Griffith in Working Girl: You want to be taken seriously, you need serious hair. Well dear reader, at this stage, I am in serious need of serious hair.

I went so far as to schedule an appointment for next weekend with Oscar's brother Luca - whom I intrinisically trust even though he has never cut my hair and he once burned me with a blow dryer (this was over 10 years ago and he was new so I don't hold a grudge). That appointment was cancelled as well. Who knows why. But that makes 4.

Is this a sign? Is God trying to tell me to get over it and find a stylist in North Carolina? Perhaps. But I have been a faithful client of Oscar for 14 years - long before he had an eponymnous Madison Avenue salon and the unofficial title of hair designer for MI:3 - and it's hard to walk away from such a long-time relationship.

Besides - has God had a good look at the hair down here? The women in the city have stick straight hair that takes no talent to style - just some bleach and a blow dryer.

In Lincolnton, we seem to be stuck in a time warp when it comes to hair styles. Lots of feathers, bangs and tight perms. It's as if we're a follicly challenged town who missed the boat on hair style evolution.

Where does this leave me? Still shaggy and eagerly awaiting my September 30th appointment with Oscar as much as a small child looks forward to Christmas. Of course, my biggest fear is that Suri Cruise will be ready for her first hair cut by then and that Oscar will be called to LA to handle the honor. But I am trying to stay positive.

In the mean time, I am improving my French twist technique daily and if all else fails, there's always the woman who advertises hair styling in the little trailer down the road.

And if that ain't country, I'll kiss your...

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