My New Haircut

I've been in desperate need of a haircut lately. All my Army spouse friends have the same stylist do their hair, and it figures that she moved back to the United States two weeks ago. When I asked the stylist if she could recommend anyone else instead, she said, "Don't bother. Let your hair grow naturally since the Koreans will completely mess it up." Slightly catty, but her business is hair so she probably knows.

Nonetheless, I resolved to go to a real Korean beauty salon for a real Korean haircut. After all, no matter how good or how bad my hair looks after a new haircut, in a week it always looks one of two ways: frizzy/curly/wild or in a ponytail. And secondly, all the K-Pop boy bands have meticulously managed manes so someone here must be a professional at that sort of thing.

This morning after my adult conversational English class, I asked the women if there was a salon in the neighborhood they could recommend. The trendiest of my students immediately got on the phone and called a nearby salon who scheduled me in right away. This student was so anxious- it's like she was awaiting the day she could finally give me a makeover! My hair, clothes and makeup are uninteresting by American standards so here they must be positively spiritless.

At the salon my student made introductions. There were three people working in the salon: a man with huge lion-mane hair was the king of the pride and he had two female assistants (let's call them Lion King, Nala, and Sarabi). I thanked my student and she left me with three drooling hair stylists wielding scissors over my head and ready to pounce. But before any cuts were made, Lion King spent no less than five minutes feeling every bump and valley on my scalp with his hands. Satisfied he understood the structure of my skull, he began cutting my hair by snipping each hair individually it seemed like. I almost laughed out loud at the perplexed expression on his face and how he would crouch down and balance in an awkward position before each cut. I felt like Lion King was creating an abstract piece of art and not cutting my hair. But considering my naturally curly/wavy hair was drying in a million directions while he pondered, I probably did actually resemble abstract art. Nala was his assistant throughout the cut, despite the now six other customers in the salon who were openly staring at me while Sarabi rushed around juggling their beauty needs. When the cut was almost finished, Nala held a piece of plastic in front of my face that looked like a clear curved dustpan while Lion King cut some fringe around my face. Now that's service!

Lion King asked if I wanted color on my newly chin-length hair and I hesitated, noticing that very woman in the salon had black hair except for the Lion King himself whose hair was dyed several shades of brown. I took his hair as a sign that the salon offers more than one hair dye option and plus my semi-blond highlights were grown out to the tacky length..... so I agreed. Nala placed mini-shower caps over my ears and then Lion King, Nala, and Sarabi all brushed the color paste onto different sections of my hair. I was free to sit around and watch the other customers be irritated at all the attention I was hogging and simultaneously be unable to give me less than their own full attention.

All in all it was an amusing experience. My haircut cost the equivalent of $10 and I only had to do a few minor snips in the bathroom at home tonight. Andrew's been working a ton of hours this week so I had to cut the back myself..... Lion King and his pride would be horrified!