Blending In: Lesson 1) The Euro-Mullet

Last Thursday was seemingly perfect day-sunny and warm, garden party at the Fairholme House (the house where 8 of the CEA American students live/my temp home), and not to mention my excursion to St. Tropez that I would soon embark on later that evening. I decided to skip class Thursday, because Lindsey wanted to get her hair cut and insisted that I come along with her. I went, because it was one of those things that sounded like a good idea at the time. If I could change my actions knowing that the end result would be horrendous, I would have stayed in class. We found a hair salon called Jean Louis David that appeared very chic and clean so we went there. The large photo in the window was the same hair cut that I have, so I figured this could be a good time to get my hair trimmed so that I would only have to point at a picture and it would be done. I could not have been more wrong.
It was weird from the moment we stepped in the salon as there was a young man… perhaps 18 years old sweeping up the floor who directed us upstairs when we told him we wanted a hair cut. We were then wrapped in white robes… giving the feeling of being in an upper class hair salon… hmm? Ok so the young boy washed my hair and it was the most awkward hair washing session that I have ever had- I could just tell he had no clue on how to wash my hair. So after 10 minutes of being very uncomfortable, I was sent downstairs and greeted-if I could really call it that- by a twenty something French man who wore a mullet with very short bangs (think beetlejuice). The man was very unfriendly to his assistants and he was the only stylist working at the time. Lindsey’s hair was almost finished, but I did not get to see the end product until it was too late. At this point, I had a razor that would normally be used to shave a man’s hair to shear my hair.
This was weird, but I went along with it, because I don’t know the techniques used here in France. Everything seemed like it could go ok…not great, but just ok (something I could work with in the end) until he asked me if I liked my “bit”-the piece that is my signature look, the long side piece. Of course I said yes… and then he took the razor and sheared my hair some more but now removing my “bit” leaving me with the most random hair cut in the world that can only be compared to Joe Dirt! Business in the front and party in the back! I am now adorning a mullet! Yes- I am bringing it back. The schizo hair stylist (if he is even certified to be one) gave me bangs that start from the back of my head and thin hair all around the bottom and where my “bit” was is now a chunk of bangs… so one side of my bangs are now thicker than the other side… its more a reverse of what I had.
I didn’t even know what to do, but when I exited the hair salon I just bawled uncontrollably. I cried the from the second I exited the salon until I arrived at the Fairholme House, receiving some very weird looks on the streets and making a complete scene on the tram.

Below are pictures of what my hair should have been and what it actually looks like... that is the picture that was in the window!