When Shopping Would Have Saved Me Money!

Last week was weird for me.  I turned 47 which wasn’t particularly monumental other than I am one year closer to 50 and I am not buying any clothing “presents” for myself these days.  While the birthday went off without a hitch, for some reason I felt unsettled.  I finally decided that it was my hair.  I told myself I needed something new-ish, fresh-ish, young-ish.  Now, a little background– I have only had one haircut style in my adult life.  I wear it short and sometimes shorter, blond and sometimes blonder. As you can imagine going for something “new” can be the difference between a half inch and an additional foil or two. 

Earlier in the month I met a spunky, modern girl at the reception desk at one of my client’s offices.   Hovering on the young end of her twenties, she had great hair, an age appropriate earring in her nose and a cute tattoo, the kind she will hate when she is 47.  Compelled by her flawless youth I asked, “Hey, where’d you get your hair done.”  Flattered and excited to be giving a woman like me fashion advice she told me  “my guy downstairs is amaaaaaazing.”  After a little TMI she scrawled his name down on a business card and handed it over to me.  Last week, in my moment of needing something “different,” I dug her lipstick soiled guy’s card out of the depths of my handbag and called him.  I booked a 2.5 hour appointment for haircut and color.   Certainly, I told myself, he could do something Fresh-ish!  

Can you say hair debacle!  Yikes.  He told me “I’m not sure I like you in short hair” (that should have been a sign).  He said he wanted me to “grow it out.” I won’t drag you through the details of my afternoon with the long-hair-loving stylist, other than the fact that it cost over $200 smackers and I came away with a beige poof job.   The guy used a round brush on my hair…need I say more?

When I got home my husband, who never notices when I get my hair cut, asked me if I was going to coin my new look  “Carol Brady Returns.”  Later that night at writing group my fellow writers told me, “That’s the worst haircut you’ve ever had.”   

Upon waking the next day I made a phone call and scheduled the “fixer cut”.  It was time to go to the renowned Super Swank Salon that I had been avoiding for years, (though it came highly recommended).  It is one of those places that  people name drop, it was so cool that it was so uncool in my mind I had refused to go.  But now, the only thing that could remedy my situation was something upber cool.  

I entered the swank, shiny, chic Salon—pronounced “Say-lawn,” complete with espresso bar and cocktails, and was immediately comforted by the modern haircuts all around.  I had to ask myself, “why haven’t I been here?” I checked my coat, grabbed a sparkling something or other and met with my short-haired, funky, stylist.  I was in good hands.  An hour later and another 100 bucks sunk I had a very short but very cute hair cut.  The only problem was….she cut off $100 worth of color (from the day before) and now I looked like a speckled bird.   My super chic stylist offered to color it but at that point I wasn’t about to “pay more.”  Plus it just felt wrong coloring my hair two times in two days.  The last thing I needed was for my hair to fall out.  

I feel like I need to say this,I am not high maintenance.  I am the kind of girl who wears her hair super short so she can get ready super fast.  Really.

At home my husband laughed at my hair.  He said, “now you look like an exotic bird from that Planet Earth video”.  If he knew how much I had paid at that point I am certain his attitude would have been different. 

The next day, at the end of the day and certain that the hair was not getting better, I made yet another call to a non discript,  local hair dresser a few blocks away from my house and two doors down from Safeway.  I told her in a panic “I am on my third day of a bad hair fiasco that needs fixing right away.”  She calmly made an appointment and assured me that it wasn’t the first hair mistake of the day she’d fixed (good to know that hair disasters are alive and well all over the place).  $100 dollars and another two hours later  I had my hair the way I wanted it.  Short and blond, sans speckles. 

So why am I telling you this story?  My hair story?  Because if I had been buying clothes I would have filled my car with new items, gone home, tried them on and then returned most of them.  I would have tried on different styles, studied myself in the mirror and then made some decisions.  No dobut I would have wasted a lot of time making a few trips to the store, to buy and return.  But in the end I probably would have spent $200 instead of $400.  I would have clothes in my closet and not hair on the floor.  Now, I’m not saying I wish I could shop, but last week it would have saved me some money and several hours in the salon chair.  Sept. 1st cannot get here soon enough!

I Whole Heartedly Recommend: What to Wear for the Rest of Your Life, Ageless Secrets of Style

Last week while riding the stair stepper at the gym and thumbing through the latest People Magazine (don’t tell anyone, it was the health club’s copy) I came upon a book review for a new book called What to Wear for the Rest of Your Life, Ageless Secrets of Style,  by Kim Johnson Gross.  Now, I am not one to read style books, largely because when you’ve read one, you’ve read ‘em all.  But something about the review intrigued me. 

 ”Our lives evolve and often our wardrobes do not…books like this help us relax and enjoy who we are, giving us permission to be stylish, feminine and sexy at any age.”   Sigrid Olsen, artist and Designer.

After I left the gym I went to my local bookstore and bought the book.  I just finished it…It was great!

The book is never bossy or pedantic like you might suspect a “style maven’s” book to be.  Instead Kim Johnson Gross is a friendly voice, one that is more apt to empathize than admonish (not like those Skinny Bitches).  As a vetran of the unforgiving fashion industry, Johnson Gross weaves her own tale of a mid-life bodychange that challenged not only her wardrobe but her sense of self.   She gives great advice to fellow aging fashionistas and offers up practical soloutions to “closet problems.”  Chapters include: Closet Betrayal, the Lying Mirror, Shop Smart for the Rest of your Life, How to Wear a Shirt When You No Longer Have a Waist and Other Closet Dramas. 

I was grateful that this book found me as I was sweating off the extra glass of wine from the night before and pouring over the news about Sandra Bullock’s new baby.  I can truly say that it was meant to be, particularly as I contemplate my new spending, apparel wearing, and shopping habits that are set to resume soon (121 days).  Hopefully the author’s advice, reflection, humor and stories will help to inform my new and improved ways. 

A solid thumbs up.  A keeper.  This is not your standard fashion advice book  I only wish I would have written it myself!