Your very worst experience at the hairdresser's.

Razor cut it! No, no, never. That's not good for curls, either.

Are you male or female, GF? (pardon the asking :wink: )

Edit:

Well, it's not good for the wavier, less cork-screw curls (like mine). If you're hair is extremely kinky, then it may do. I am not sure, honestly. I just can recall being told (by a curly-hair salon specialist) that razor-cutting is a no-no for me.

Oh, I'd love to.

However, the problem with mine (and this is why I went in search of short layers) is that the length of my hair weighs down the top of my head. So while the body of hair is curly, the top of my head is straight. I look like a loon. So I will keep getting short layers. I told her to "keep the length," but I think she took about two inches off the bottom. Go figure

You wouldn't have a photograph in your archives to post, would you?

My worst hair experience happened when I forgot to follow my own advise.
For a while I had to move around a LOT, to really glamorous places to Peewauke, WI, Out In The Middle of Nowhere, ID, etc.
I had made it a practice to never get my hair done until a saw a woman who had a sytle I liked, and would be doable on my head, and I would chase her down and ask where she went.

This served me especially well in Okeechobee, FL, where the mullet is still alive and well for both men and women.

Anywho, I finally ended up in Ft. Lauderdale, FL and was out job interviewing.
I was looking a little ratty, but had no idea where to go....

I ended up going in a salon, and since they didn't know me, stuck me with this hairdresser they were probably trying to get rid of, and were collecting evidence against her.

I asked her to "just follow the lines of what I already have" since the last cut was good.

I wore glasses at the time so couldn't see the damage until too late.

Between my glasses and the cut - I looked exactly life Garth from Waynes World.
AAAAAG! What was I supposed to say - hey, cut it even shorter?
Well, at least then I would have look like I was having chemo.

I remember sitting at an interview the next day and watching the interviewers eyes as they kept drifting to the top of my head.

Oh, poor Chai Tea!
But did you get the job despite the hair?

Yep, that's what I've decided to do, too. Follow a complete stranger with a good haircut down the street & ask for the name of the cutter!

I do, I do!

And how did the braiding turn out, eoe?

My hair turned out fine. My nerves on the other hand...

My friends little girl, she was about 4 or 5 at the time managed to get hold of some scissors, she thought she'd give herslef a little haircut.
This resulted in a very short fringe, and different length hair all round.
Her mum was not happy as you can imagine and neither was the little girl when she realised she couldnt put her hair up anymore.
She had to have an alround short hairdoo, she didnt look like herself at all.

I did EXACTLY the same thing when I was that age. I got a hold of my mothers pinking shears (large scissors with curvy serrated edge) and I cut my fringe diagonally, so I looked like an absolute nut! My mother of course, slapped the legs off me. However it didn't deter me. Years later I have done most of the damage to my own hair - from cutting it myself to dyeing it purple, black, and all shades of red. These days I am more sedate - I have it back to my (or as near to) natural color.
However, if I go to a hairdresser I am unforgiving. As a child I used to get the worst haircuts from hairdressers. I swear they loved giving kids the crappiest stupidest haircuts - a fringe that was just shy of my hairline, so short it looked like I'd had an accident with a lawnmower. These days, I am in the habit of looking them in the eye and saying something like, "if I look like you put a bowl on my head and cut around it, I'll have to hurt you, make me look good!" Apparently I am a scarey customer because they check with me on every snip and if I'm not happy I WILL hurt them!

That must be a pretty common thing for kids to do. I was just a toddler and don't remember but one of my brothers got ahold of my mother's scissors and gave me a little trim. She had my hair in two ponytails and he clipped around both barretts. But he didn't cut through, so cunning and precise was he, so it wasn't until she took my hair down and began to comb through it that it fell away. Can you imagine?

I'll bet she ate his ass up for that. Too bad I don't remember.

eoe - that is brilliant - it made me laugh out loud!

I haven't been to a hairdresser for more than fifty years. When I was a child, every so often my mother would take me for a professional cut. I hated sitting still without my glasses in the cutting chair and even more sitting still with my glasses under the dryer.

The comb out was usually painful--I have baby fine hair--the sort that snarls and tangles. The comb out was always done without glasses. Then the stylist would plunk my glasses on my nose with an eye to preserving her work rather than having my lenses in front of my eyes.

My hair is long enough that I can shampoo it and then twist it up, up out of the way.

As a Tender Child I swore many Mighty Oaths (as in "When I am grown up and in charge of my own life I will never....." or "When I am grownup and in charge of my own life I will always...."). I've tempered and twisted many of these Mighty Oaths, but not the one concerning beauty parlors.

O wise Noddy!

Hey, blokes can post here, too!

Oh, poor msolga! PLEASE tell me you didn't PAY her! You're always entitled to walk out! (Would you pay for inedible food in a restaurant?)

It took me until I was almost 30 years old to figure out what to do with my hair. It's fine and thin, but has a natural wave to it. Of course, it never waves in appropriate places...hahaha!...just weird ones. Thankfully I have had two good stylists over the last 20 years (I am LOYAL.) But they still can't handle my hair as well as I can. They're great colorists and they learned to cut my hair and partially blow dry it, then hand me the tools so I can finish it myself. Less work for them, and everybody's happy.

Lessee...I have two salon horror stories. Hmmm, which one first...which one first.....

Okay, oldest story first.

I was 16. It was the late '60s when everyone wanted long, straight hair, maybe with a couple of long layers. It had to have a center part. I had spent three agonizingly long years growing my hair out from shoulder length.

It was finally the right length, but it had absolutely no body. So I decided to add a couple of layers. My mom took me to her hairstylist, who she swore was the very best. I told him the first layer should be about chin-length, then a couple more layers down to the full length, which he was supposed to just barely trim.

Apparently he didn't listen to me, because he cut ALL my hair off chin-length! If course, he started in the back so I couldn't see what he was doing until it was far too late. My mother and her stylist were ecstatic...my hair was going to be SO CUTE!!! Everyone in the shop kept coming around to tell me how great it looked, but I just sat there in horrified silence. Finally, when the torture was over, I went into their restroom and bawled my eyes out. I wouldn't let anyone in. About half an hour later I finally emerged and ran straight to the car, and bawled the whole way home. I wouldn't come out of my room for 2 days. Mom had to bring food and leave it outside my door. Finally I called my best friend, who came right over. She and I cried together, then she went out and bought me a "fall." That was a long, straight hairpiece that you attached at the crown of your head that made it look as if you had long hair. I wore it for 6 months.

I never went back to that salon, and I never allowed my mother to make a single comment about my hair again. Frankly, she was afraid to.

After she died a few years ago, I decided to stop in at the salon to tell the owner/stylist (now in his 70s) thank-you for taking such good care of my mother for 40 years, including the last few when going to the salon was difficult for her. He had become one of her trusted friends through the years. He still remembered how upset I'd been all those years ago, and apologized.

I accepted. I supposed that 30 years was long enough to make him pay.

And here I thought my bad salon experiences were unique to me. They see me coming and seem to dislike me immediately, wish I knew why. Even when I make a big effort to be nice, I'm hammered for washing it too much, putting barettes in it, wearing it in a ponytail, coloring it, using the wrong products, and basically not doing anything right.

My hair's very fine & thin, and easily damaged. Usually I try to get it permed & they won't do it because it's "already too damaged." I was born with damaged hair, I think.

One fellow thought it was funny to tell me my hair was "coming out in big clumps." Another woman argued with me for 20 minutes, refusing to perm my hair, until another employee did perm it, and it came out great.

Another experience was when they claimed I was lying about how I treated my hair. Another... the wrong shampoo, how could I be so stupid? Another... we won't perm it, we're closing too soon (even though I already had an appointment for a perm). Another... in Coconut Grove, FL, I said I wanted my hair "short." I got a buzz job... my friends called me "Hedgehog" for months!

Finally I asked my husband a few years ago to just cut it straight across... my hair's very straight. When he said "oops!" I cringed... and found a clump 4" shorter than the rest of my hair. I cut the rest myself.

Right now I need a trim... and I dread going anywhere to have it done! I thought salon folk were supposed to be nice, chatty, you know, Friendly. They've always been rather mean to me.