A hairy situation

Before I begin today's entry, let me state unabashedly that I am a complete metrosexual. I usually wear slacks, have monthly facials, and pay a hefty fee for my haircut.

That said, haircare is not an issue I take lightly. I have three different shampoos, four leave-in-conditioners, and God knows how many other products. I can wear my hair waivy or stick straight. Lately I've adopted a bedhead look. Now I'm rambling. Anyway, today I did one of my least favorite things in the world: I tried a new hair stylist.

Back in Columbia at The Strand is Karla, the best hair stylist I've had in 24 years. I adore her. She saw me through the long-hair phase and the ill-advised short-hair phase (which she tried to talk me out of) that immediately followed. When I told her I wanted the bedhead look, she new just how to do it.

Once I graduated and returned to Oklahoma City, I used my mom's stylist. Too funky. Then I tried my dad's stylist. Too conservative. And I tried one of my own, and I grew to like her. Until she was fired and decided not to cut hair anymore.

So today I followed the course of action that seemed to make the most sense: I looked for the most expensive stylist in the phone book, figuring he/she could do just what I wanted. What I got was a girl at DK Salon. Upon learning of my impending vacation to Hawaii (oh, did I forget to blog about that? Some other time), she recommended highlights. Not since Karla have I tried highlights. Karla's were so perfect. But I'm pleased to report that my official new stylist did a great job with both the highlights and the cut.

You can heave a sigh of relief.