Last October I did something crazy. Lured by the promise of free cocktails, a snazzy exposed brick interior and lots of cool instagram pictures featuring balayaged beauties, I booked a hair cut and colour at a salon I had never been to before. The hairdresser had not been recommended to me. I blindly put my trust and my barnet in her hands.
To her credit the colour that she did was great but she hacked my hair to death, giving me layers so short that I had a mullet. Think love child of Rachel from friends and Rod Stewart. The general length of the hair was kept just above my shoulders but for reasons I still can’t quite fathom, other than that I must have inadvertently insulted her mother, she cut layers that were shorter than the top of my ear, loads of them. Once I thought that the spree was over, she grabbed a pair of what looked like dress making scissors and slid them down my hair vertically – for that feathered look that absolutely nobody wanted, ever. The whole cut took about 10 minutes tops.
After spending a good few months previously growing out a bob, I was back at square one but worse. I still had most of the length at the back , a glaring reminder of what I had achieved and yet I couldn’t enjoy those flowing locks due to the hacked off stumps of follicle laughing at me from the top of my head.
So what did I do? Did I ask to speak to the manager and refuse to pay ? Of course not, I went all British and made a strangled appreciative sound and fled to my car. Perhaps it was my fault, after all I hadn’t conveyed that I explicitly didn’t want a layered cut from the 1990’s . The many, many Pinterest photos that I showed her of long bobs without 1 inch layers were obviously not clear enough.
I went home, poured a large gin and googled, ‘How long does it take to grow out really short layers?’ Turns out this is a common complaint and there are numerous message boards filled with victims of the unwanted, “Rachel.”
With advice from the internet, my sis and the professionals at Rainbow Room, I can finally see long layers at the end of the tunnel, here’s how I coped with a bad haircut and how you can too.
- Don’t be rash. My first instinct was to get another short bob to level up the crazy a bit but I was counselled against this, the logic being that short layered hair would be just as disgusting, or maybe even worse, than long layered hair and I would be setting myself back further in the long run.
- Instead I made my peace with the fact that my hair was going to be worn in up do’s for the foreseeable. You should do this too.
- Think about your fitness, why we were put on this earth, how to make your lips look bigger with lip liner, how scary it is that Trump might be president, just don’t think about your hair for 6 months.
- A cool fringe will ease the pain of the bad haircut but you may need to wait a month or two for a dodgy fringe and creepy side layers to grow a bit first. I used Helena’s 70’s style hair as inspiration for mine.
- Even though they are the bane of your very existence and you hate them with every fibre of your being, be kind to those short little layers. Don’t touch them with straighteners, smother them in a hair mask once a week and try and use clasps instead of bobbles, which could break them and make them even shorter – sacre bleu!
- Go to a decent hairdresser that has been recommended to you by someone who has great hair, the hairdresser should also have great hair. Here’s a recommendation for you Glasgow peeps, Eildih at Rainbow Rooms George Square.
Here’s to good hair days bitches! x