I started going to a new hair guy a couple of months ago. He's something like a creative genius. And the place is very cute with easy parking. And the owner likes my boots.
You wouldn't believe the compliments I get on my stupid Target $30 boots. I bought them a few years ago after Melanie featured them in a Fashion Friday. The bottom of one of the heels has finally started to break apart, but I can't let go. Obviously I can't replace them with the same pair because that's not how Target works, but I'll be sure to get some just like them from Frye or some place. They go with nearly everything--even skirts and dresses.
Target...
Frye... 
Right. So I visited mt hair guy today and couldn't be happier with the results. I'm feeling very That Girl.
You remember That Girl. Ann Marie? Donald? No? Okay, well it doesn't matter. I'll never be able to replicate this look anyway. There was color and glaze and copious amounts of Moroccan Oil. At one point I opened my eyes to take a peek and M had an enormous metal-core round brush in one hand-- something the size of the agitator in your washing machine-- and two hairdryers in the other. So obviously there's just no way.
But it was a good day.
On the way to my appointment I did have a little trouble at the Barnes & Noble. Apparently you can't give them the peppermint tea you just bought from them two seconds ago to watch while you run to the ladies room because of "germs and stuff." So that was kind of odd. But I rebounded hard at the Starbucks on the way home--awesome macchiato talk.
This is pretty sad, isn't it? Okay, so let's just stop here. But if I manage to get my hair looking anything close to Marlo Thomas on my own, I may force you to look at a picture of it.
No comments:
Post a Comment