Well, as we all know, I'm a vibrant redhead. But as most don't know, I sing AND dance in the car along with my iPod. I was waiting at a red light, and was singing along with a really upbeat and fun song. I was having a blast; I had just got off work, and was excited to go home.
Amongst my little disco, I saw a face in a car a couple rows over. I stop dancing and look at the man, who had apparently been watching me the whole time! I was so embarrased, I put my head on my steering wheel and start cracking up. I looked back up to see if he was still watching, and he was laughing too! My face was BRIGHT red...
When the light turned green, and I turned left, I reminded myself, "Um, I kind of have bright red hair now... I should be more careful. I guess I'm gonna be getting a lot of attention now!"
Whether it be good attention or bad attention, it's still gonna be wicked fun.
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Ch-ch-ch-Changes...
Yesterday I accompanied a friend to the local beauty supply store, and helped her pick out a new colour for her. I picked something I thought strange for her (she's conservative) : Mahogony violet.
Turns out: I'm AWESOME at colour. Here's my proof.
Later that day, I decided I wanted to colour my hair. Mine was boring, common, and not very flattering anymore.
I went red. RED red.
We used Framesi's 2:1 high lift colour in Hypnotic Red. The people who applied the colour, all along, "Are you sure, Chelsea? This looks kinda pink..." "But 40 volume developer!? Your head's gonna BURN..." The whole time, all I heard was skepticism.
I trudged on through. I was adament that this was my colour. They threw me under the dryer, and kept checking my hair, more so out of fear than obligation.
When my head was appropriately warm and toasty, Bridgette washed out my hair. First words to come out of her mouth: WOW.
Jennali used Color Off on my hairline and said, "Wow."
Dani started blowdrying my hair and said, "Wow!"
My teacher, Mr. Mario, was the first person to actually say a coherent sentence that made any sense to me, "This colour matches your skin tone EXACTLY, you look great!" (No, he doesn't talk like a gay man, he talks like a Mexican. ... Mostly because he is one.)
Daniel, my favorite floor student, came up and played with my hair. "Oh my god, Chelsea, look! Your eyes just... POP!"
It was that moment, that first floor student's approach, launched a .... well, a touching party is the best name I can come up with. Nearly every person who came up to look at my new colour played with it.
"It feels so healthy!"
"This is with FOURTY volume developer!?"
"That's so not school colour..."
"Ah! Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind!"
"Not many people can pull off this colour... and it looks like you were supposed to have it."
Yeah, I'm totally awesome at colour.
Trust me; I'm the girl with flaming red hair.
Turns out: I'm AWESOME at colour. Here's my proof.
Later that day, I decided I wanted to colour my hair. Mine was boring, common, and not very flattering anymore.
I went red. RED red.
We used Framesi's 2:1 high lift colour in Hypnotic Red. The people who applied the colour, all along, "Are you sure, Chelsea? This looks kinda pink..." "But 40 volume developer!? Your head's gonna BURN..." The whole time, all I heard was skepticism.
I trudged on through. I was adament that this was my colour. They threw me under the dryer, and kept checking my hair, more so out of fear than obligation.
When my head was appropriately warm and toasty, Bridgette washed out my hair. First words to come out of her mouth: WOW.
Jennali used Color Off on my hairline and said, "Wow."
Dani started blowdrying my hair and said, "Wow!"
My teacher, Mr. Mario, was the first person to actually say a coherent sentence that made any sense to me, "This colour matches your skin tone EXACTLY, you look great!" (No, he doesn't talk like a gay man, he talks like a Mexican. ... Mostly because he is one.)
Daniel, my favorite floor student, came up and played with my hair. "Oh my god, Chelsea, look! Your eyes just... POP!"
It was that moment, that first floor student's approach, launched a .... well, a touching party is the best name I can come up with. Nearly every person who came up to look at my new colour played with it.
"It feels so healthy!"
"This is with FOURTY volume developer!?"
"That's so not school colour..."
"Ah! Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind!"
"Not many people can pull off this colour... and it looks like you were supposed to have it."
Yeah, I'm totally awesome at colour.
Trust me; I'm the girl with flaming red hair.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Suprises around every corner
About a week ago, I recently tested out of the first "grade" of beauty school and "graduated" into what we call "Phase 2" (it sounds like an evil plan, and in most ways it is). Rather than being mostly classroom based, my class now is usually just our teacher shouting out instructions on something we learned the theory of a few weeks ago.
Allow me to give some background on my teacher: Mario. Mario is one of our admissions counselor's selling points. This man is, to the teachers at the school, gifted. He truly is rather talented. Watching him work on someone is fascinating, he does it all so well. The way he teaches explains it all so well, I rarely ever have a question.
Here's the kicker: he's a thirty-year old who has the heart and mind of a a sixteen-year old boy. He flirts with every female student, knows everything I thought you could only have an x chromosome to understand.
Today in class, our first assignment was suprisingly to write a page and a half paper on why we want to be stylists. I was the second to last to read my report, and was glad I was close to last. Nearly every other person had mentioned how they were expecting a large amount of money, or reputation to go with it.
In mine, I mentioned the history of my sister attending cosmo school while I was young, and how it was so cool to get to go in and be her voluntary model (actually, I don't ever remember anyone asking....). She's the only one who's touched my hair with shears for as long as I could remember (besides one, and there's a reason why I don't go back) and throughout all those haircuts, I was mesmorized by her ability to completely transform people.
As we were wrapping up, Dani, the nostalgic one, asked Mario why he became a hair stylist. We were expecting the one word answer (that made the most sense): Girls.
Much to our surprise, Mario related to us an inspiring and beautiful story about his past, and his reasoning for his schooling.
He told us about how he could treat women nicely or badly, and how in high school he picked he latter. He told us about how he became a jerk when he was a sherriff. He told us about how he went to school, and after making a ton of money in salons, let it go to his head. I could almost hear the lump in his throat as he described his turning point, redeeming himself by giving away his expensive and worldly possessions to work as a humble school instructor at merely $15 an hour.
The clincher was my favorite part, "This is the only profession you can physically touch someone, their hair, their hands, their shoulders, and have the chance to touch them spiritually. We aren't hair dressers, we're day-makers. Think of the times you had a bad colour job, or a lousy day and got your hair done: it ALWAYS makes you feel better."
I won't lie, I got kinda teary-eyed. But then again, I'm a total girl so that's not news.
It's days like these that remind me just how awesome the people I'm learning beside truly are.
Allow me to give some background on my teacher: Mario. Mario is one of our admissions counselor's selling points. This man is, to the teachers at the school, gifted. He truly is rather talented. Watching him work on someone is fascinating, he does it all so well. The way he teaches explains it all so well, I rarely ever have a question.
Here's the kicker: he's a thirty-year old who has the heart and mind of a a sixteen-year old boy. He flirts with every female student, knows everything I thought you could only have an x chromosome to understand.
Today in class, our first assignment was suprisingly to write a page and a half paper on why we want to be stylists. I was the second to last to read my report, and was glad I was close to last. Nearly every other person had mentioned how they were expecting a large amount of money, or reputation to go with it.
In mine, I mentioned the history of my sister attending cosmo school while I was young, and how it was so cool to get to go in and be her voluntary model (actually, I don't ever remember anyone asking....). She's the only one who's touched my hair with shears for as long as I could remember (besides one, and there's a reason why I don't go back) and throughout all those haircuts, I was mesmorized by her ability to completely transform people.
As we were wrapping up, Dani, the nostalgic one, asked Mario why he became a hair stylist. We were expecting the one word answer (that made the most sense): Girls.
Much to our surprise, Mario related to us an inspiring and beautiful story about his past, and his reasoning for his schooling.
He told us about how he could treat women nicely or badly, and how in high school he picked he latter. He told us about how he became a jerk when he was a sherriff. He told us about how he went to school, and after making a ton of money in salons, let it go to his head. I could almost hear the lump in his throat as he described his turning point, redeeming himself by giving away his expensive and worldly possessions to work as a humble school instructor at merely $15 an hour.
The clincher was my favorite part, "This is the only profession you can physically touch someone, their hair, their hands, their shoulders, and have the chance to touch them spiritually. We aren't hair dressers, we're day-makers. Think of the times you had a bad colour job, or a lousy day and got your hair done: it ALWAYS makes you feel better."
I won't lie, I got kinda teary-eyed. But then again, I'm a total girl so that's not news.
It's days like these that remind me just how awesome the people I'm learning beside truly are.
Calm down, Calm down.
I'm not sure if the title of this particular post is directed at myself or my friends/sisters. I figured starting a blog would help spread the stories better. I write better then I speak, so if what I have to say is written down somwhere for all to see, everyone will get the whole impact of my stories best.
I would start out with a fabulous story of Beauty School Today (that kinda sounds like a bit on an old 60's news show) but I have work. I'll probably have more fun stories after that, so I'll just give you a full dose of hilarity (or inspiration) late tonight.
Don't touch that dial!
I would start out with a fabulous story of Beauty School Today (that kinda sounds like a bit on an old 60's news show) but I have work. I'll probably have more fun stories after that, so I'll just give you a full dose of hilarity (or inspiration) late tonight.
Don't touch that dial!
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