I’ve been wanting to get a new haircut for months but have been unable to find one I like. As such, my hair is a bit shorter than shoulder-length and looks very ragged. I usually go to another hairdresser, but I am so excited to finally get a haircut I like that I just go to one that accepts walk-ins. The haircut that I want is basically a sidecut with about ear-length hair on the other side and a shorter layer on top. I am so excited that I am grinning the whole time.

Hairdresser: *After washing my hair* “So, do you already have a haircut in mind, sweetie?” 

Me: “Yeah, I’ve got pictures!”

I show her pictures of the haircut from several angles

Hairdresser: “Okay, then.”

She sections my hair on one side off.

Hairdresser: “This part will be trimmed; is that okay?”

Me: “Yes.”

She holds scissors to my hair.

Hairdresser: “Are you sure?”

Me: “Yes.” 

The hairdresser cuts and trims my hair, and then sections of another layer of hair.

Hairdresser: “If we leave it like that, the hair will keep falling down and that won’t be fun; would you like to trim this, too?”

Me: “Oh, if it’s like that, then, yeah!”

The hairdresser trims off the other hair section but leaves it longer towards the top.

Me: “Sorry, could you please make it the same length in the whole area?”

Hairdresser: “Are you sure?”

Me: *Confused* “Yes?”

The hairdresser trims the whole side and starts cutting the other side to a bit longer than chin-length.

Me: “Umm, could you please cut it a few centimetres shorter?”

Hairdresser: *Pauses* “Are you sure? If it’s gone, then it’s gone!” 

Me: “Yeah! Hair grows, after all!”

Hairdresser: “Huh?”

Me: “Hair grows back?”

Hairdresser: “Ah, yes.” 

She cuts my hair to chin-length.

Me: “Ah, umm, to about here, please?” *Shows length*

Hairdresser: *Dismissive* “Oh, I’ll just trim the bottom out a bit, and then it’ll jump up when it’s dry.”

I’m thinking, “She’s the professional.”

Me: “Okay!”

Hairdresser: *Finishes cutting* “Do you like it?” 

She hands me a mirror.

Me: “Yeah, thanks so much!”

Hairdresser: “Do you want me to blow-dry your hair?”

I declined, paid, and left. When my hair was dry, it hadn’t gotten as short as I wanted it, but I didn’t want to complain as I probably should’ve let her blow-dry it to make sure it would be that short.

I still don’t quite understand her reluctance to actually cut my hair as short as I wanted it. I can understand that you would ask people who go in without a plan and then decide on a whim to cut their hair short to make sure they really want it, but I brought pictures, was smiling the whole time, had obviously short hair before, and even reassured her that hair grows!

On top of that, it seemed like she was a senior employee, by her age and by the way she ordered the other hairdressers around, rather than an insecure newbie. I ended up getting my father to cut it shorter and I will definitely go to my usual salon next time.

I was about to finish my course after three years of studying, and I wanted to treat myself to a posh-looking hair salon before the final oral exam. I was by no means looking dirty, but my hair and beard were getting too long for my own comfort. Trimming isn’t a problem to do myself, but having a professional doing it is always nice… or so I thought.

I was standing there in front of the store — white Marmor front and pictures of beautiful women and perfectly shaved men in the window, perfectly styled. Inside, I was greeted and offered drinks, coffee, and complimentary snacks while waiting.

Everyone was helpful and nice, and men and women inside were as styled as the pictures promised.

When it was my turn, a guy started to show me possible cuts and listened to what I expected about my hair. I was nervous, so I mostly just said, “Yeah, I have my final exam and wanted to treat myself. Short but not military is fine by me.”

Then, I had the experience of having my hair washed, massaged, oiled up (?), washed again and slowly cut to the shape I had awkwardly explained.

After about half an hour of “treatment,” he showed me what my head looked like. To be honest, I was pleasantly shocked by how well he did it, with millimeter fine lines around the ears and at the back of my head.

I was just thinking, “Nice. Next, my beard,” when he started to “unstrap” me from the chair and said, “You’re welcome. I hope to see you again!”

There was an awkward silence since I wasn’t sure what to say.

“Uhm… and where is the station for my beard?” I finally asked.

“Oh, we don’t support that profession, so we don’t cut beards here.”

So, I was sitting there. Business-styled hair with wild-looking eyebrows and a wild, unshaved — and in comparison to my hair — dirty-looking beard.

He stood there like everything was fine and ready for payment. 

I paid, silently left, and awkwardly shaved at home. I mean, my mistake; hair salon, I should have asked, but… come on!

Since then, I’ve been visiting a barber near my place who is a few times cheaper and faster, and actually cuts everything like the pictures seen at the store.

I have really thick hair, so whenever I get it cut, I try to avoid having hairdressers blow dry it because it’ll take forever. A lot of salons won’t allow that because they can charge you more. Since I’m growing out my hair and usually only really get a trim, I go to a discount hair salon that’s at a very famous mart. While it’s not very high-end, there is a well-trained hairstylist that works there and she has me in and out without having to blow dry my hair. Still, it’s not a place I would go to if I wanted anything further done.

The last time I went there, this girl was getting her hair dyed, and when she got the foils removed, I remember thinking, “Wow, this grandma is in really good shape,” and admiring her dress. I thought this because her hair was completely gray. As I got closer, I realized that this girl was actually a young woman and thought that maybe she was going for the silver-unicorn look. That’s when I noticed her hair turning green.

Apparently, she had beautiful platinum blonde hair and just wanted some darker lowlights added. The other hairstylist that worked there — not the one I went to — took her on and refused help from the other, more experienced stylist, who was trying to help her with the job. The woman looked like she came out from the swamp afterward, and the stylist made her pay for the job since she had “dedicated” so much time to her. 

The girl kept trying to explain why she was upset with the job, but the woman kept on interrupting her and demanding she pay. The woman would only allow her to take her complaints to the higher-ups to potentially get her money.

I get that she probably shouldn’t have gone to a discount hair salon for the work she wanted done, but that hairstylist had no right to make her pay for a horrible job!

I’m a hairdresser in a hair salon. A lady in her thirties comes in to get a cut and half a head of foils done. She’s never had foils before.

Customer: “I’m pregnant. The chemicals won’t affect the baby, will they?”

I indicate to the other hairdressers, including a pregnant coworker.

Me: “No, we have used them during pregnancy.”

Customer: “Oh, okay, good. I don’t want to hurt the baby.”

After I’ve applied the colour:

Me: “Would you like a tea or coffee, or maybe a magazine to read while you wait?”

Customer: “No, thanks, but I’m going outside for a cigarette.”

Me: “…”

(I have just moved to a small town after leaving an abusive relationship. As I’m starting a new job and my birthday is coming up, I decide to treat myself to a haircut.)

Hairdresser: “What would you like today?”

Me: “I’d like it cut to here–” *indicates to shoulders* “–with layers and half a head of foils, please. Will it be any more than [amount I have budgeted for]?”

Hairdresser: “That’s not a problem; I can do it for that.”

(As she’s cutting my hair, we chat.)

Hairdresser: “Are you new in town?”

Me: “Yes, I’ve just moved from [City] and start work on Monday at [Local Hotel]. My birthday is coming up, so to celebrate I thought I’d treat myself.”

Hairdresser: “Happy birthday and welcome to [Town]!”

(Once we finish with the foils and it’s time for me to pay:)

Hairdresser: “If you have time, I’ll do [expensive hair treatment].”

Me: “I only have [amount we agreed on].”

Hairdresser: “Don’t worry.” 

Me: “Okay, thank you.”

(When I go to pay)

Me: “Thank you! I love it. I definitely will be back.”

Hairdresser: “Great, I’m glad you like it. That’s [amount half of what we agreed on]. Happy birthday and good luck with the new job.”

Me: *almost in tears* “Are you sure?”

Hairdresser: “Perks of being the owner; I can charge what I want.”

Me: *crying* “Thank you, this means a lot. I’ve had a tough time lately and thought this might give me a boost.”

Hairdresser: “You’re welcome. If you ever need someone to talk to, you are welcome to come here for a cuppa.”

(Years later, with her support, I’ve married, had kids, and moved away, but I’m still friends with the other hairdressers and she’s become like my second mum.)