I just love seeing the faces of the hair-dressers when I walk in with my hair looking like Princess Merida's. The eyes widening in fear, nervous laughter, the uneasiness; funny, but also frightening to me. In all their time at beauty school, did they even practice on curly hair?
Probably the worst cut was when I was eleven. My stylist was some seventy-year-old man at Great Clips. He tried to cut my hair into layers, but didn't seem to know much and it ended up pretty short in the front, around chin length. It looked fine wet, of course, but when it dried and shrunk up I was left with about two inches of hair up front, and about a quarter of the way toward the back of my head it would drop to shoulder length, almost mullet-style. I didn't cut my hair for nearly a year after that incident.