I feel like I have to say a word in defense of my Egyptian hairdresser ..... just because I made him sound like he does whatever he likes (He does .. but that's not my point!) Even though he does whatever he likes, whether it was how I wanted it or not; I have never been dissatisfied with the cut and style.
He does exactly the same to my mum and my mums friend too; and we've just learned that sometimes he really does know best and it looks fantastic at the end, it's just a bit fraught when it's in the processing stages. (My mum bless her, has it worse - he picks her colour too!)
Nearly every time I go I have a moment of complete panic and I find myself with just a whole string of swearwords going round my head (why don't I verbalise them? You may well ask! Us ladies all just seem to sit in the chair and keep our gobs closed and hope for the best and then chunter about it later on.
Admittedly, my last haircut scared the living daylights out of me. Losing a foot and a half in one fell swoop was a huge blow. BUT, on saying that I had got into a horrible rut that my hair was actually tooooo long so all I could do with it was a French plait. After the big choparoo I wore my hair free for the first time in years, and haven't looked back since.
So why am I panicking if my haircuts all work out well in the end??
