Lunchtime Poll

LTP 4/12

Good morning, and happy Tuesday to us all. I thought we could engage in some commiserating today, because doing so has been scientifically proven to bond people as a group. I’ve also┬áchosen a topic that I can pretty much guarantee you’ll all have excellent responses to: What’s the worst haircut you’ve ever gotten?

I sort of see “bad haircuts” as falling under one or both of these categories: a haircut where you just weren’t happy with how it looked on you, and a haircut that was actually done poorly. I’ll jump in and declare my ill-conceived semi-Rachel haircut in the mid ’90s as my worst haircut ever and fell into the former category. The layers were too short for my naturally curly hair, and I had to straighten it every day in order to feel like I didn’t look like a poodle. I should also note that I was in high school and my self-confidence had already been hanging by a thread. Good times.

…And now it’s your turn!

Photo: Getty

17 replies on “LTP 4/12”

My hairdresser occasionally forgets about the wicked rooster tail at my crown if it gets cut too short (this Friday being one of those occasions). I have to mash it down with copious amounts of hairspray for the time being. It also can look, um … sort of Hilter-ish on the sides if cut too short.

The most unfortunate thing I’ve done to my hair was with colour though; specifically, henna. I didn’t want RED red, so I got the brown from Lush. They add indigo to henna to make in more brown. I have blonde hair. Indigo is blue. Yellow and blue make green. Fortunately(?) this was around Halloween. In the end, it was the impetus to go back to my beloved pixie cut (occasional rooster tails and Hitler-ish-ness aside). :)

I feel much better about the many, many, many terrible haircuts I’ve had in my life after reading these stories. Although I’m kind of sad other curly-haired ladies have had the same problem I have over the years. I don’t understand it. There are plenty of people in the world with curly hair. How is it so hard to learn how to cut curly hair, too?

Anyway, I’ve finally found someone who does a nice job, but it costs an arm and a leg. Worth it, but still.

My hair is huge and very curly, and I hated that when I was a kid. In 7th grade, I asked my hairdresser how we could avoid that dreaded triangle shape that I always ended up with, and she suggested layers. To reduce volume. (yeah, no). The shortest layers ended up really short. It was like a combo afro/jheri curl. And it took months to grow out long enough to even put it in a tiny pony tail. The next year, bangs were really in, so I got some. Nobody told me that curls with really curly hair shouldn’t get bangs. My 8th grade portrait shows my little face surrounded by a mass of curls, like my hair was trying to eat me alive.

I actually haven’t gotten a real haircut in more than 5 years. My sister trims my ends a couple of times per year, and that’s it. I don’t trust anyone to try to attempt a style of any sort with my hair. No one seems to know what to do with it.

I have curly hair, too, and someone let me get bangs when I was 12 or 13. I styled my bangs like this: blow them dry by wrapping then around a round brush, then curl them with a curling iron, and then coat them with hair spray until they can withstand walking into gale-force winds and not move. This is the topper to my triangle of curly hair that endured being brushed. Yes it was shiny. No, it was not right.

So to fully explain my bad haircut, I have to explain that I did not cut my hair, at all, for approximately the first 20 years of my life. It was waist/rear end length by the time I finally got the balls to chop it off, about shoulder length. However, my mom dragged me to her stylist, who is a very nice middle aged lady, who did not want to scare me too much… so she basically just trimmed it. No layers, nothing. So for a year I had a frizzy mess of hair that had no shape and looked awful! I grew it back in again and that was that.

Finally, a few years after graduating college, I found a good stylist my age in the city and got a Jean Seberg cut.

The lesson I gained from this is not to do things halfway.

Oooh…the very last time I went to a cheap-o Supercuts type place I tried to get this woman to give me layers around my face…I honestly don’t know what she thought I said, but it resulted in one side of my hair being a solid four inches shorter than the other side and just…OMG.

My friends literally had to pull me out of there cussing and screaming. I don’t think I have ever publicly thrown a tantrum quite like that (even the time when I went to a pricey chic salon in Soho and they tried to give me a “pixie” cut and razor the ends of my super curly hair).

From that moment forward I vowed I would only get my hair cut at a curly hair salon. It’s expensive but I have never looked back.

I have naturally thin yet THICK hair. Think: lots of thin strands – lots. It gets rather wavy when it’s shorter also. Obnoxiously wavy, not princessy wavy. :(

So, my stylist (who had cut my hair for YEARS) decided to try something new on me. This may have been payback for me dying my hair pink without her consent. She cut my hair into two levels. One just above my shoulders that flipped out. Another level about two inches higher that puffed like pastry and curled in. Like a jelly fish with its tentacles fluffed outward. In order to look relatively decent, I had to blow dry my hair to pull the waves out and use a curling brush to fan out the ends. Otherwise it would look like the worst layering job ever. Hack and then Hack. It took FOREVER to grow out.

Next time a stylist asks “What would you like?” You had better have an answer. Never respond, “Oh, what do you think?” Ever.

I miss my pink hair. Stupid office job.

Let’s see, there was the 7th grade uber-perm that made me look like a poodle, the time I cut my own hair while delirious with fever (I thought it would be cool to cut it real short on one side and leave it long on the other. It wasn’t) and my favorite – Bon Jovi hair. Luckily Bon Jovi hair was actually a decent cut that was badly styled, so after washing out the gunk I looked OK.
[img] jovi.jpg[/img]

I was an extremely self-conscious sixth and seventh grader in a small town, so I didn’t have too many options when it comes to hair stylists. So, of course, I went to my mom’s stylist. I have naturally curly hair, and this was in a sea of stick-straight shiny hair, and I wound up with no layers. Just a blunt end. Flat on top, and pouffy at the bottom. And I brushed it. I BRUSHED. My CURLY. HAIR. Not good. Then I tried straightening it, which took so much time with my crappy flat iron and dried my poor hair out so much that I would only wash my hair like twice a week. It was shameful. I would just cry.

Now I go to a woman who has curly hair and loves my hair. She takes care of me and taught me how to actually do my curly hair. I am never going anywhere else, and I will always do everything she says.

I wanted nice long side swept bangs. I had long layered hair with no bangs to speak of so this should have been a simple style for my hairstylist to achieve right?
I even brought in this mag w/ picture of said bangs. I should have known it wasn’t going to go well when the stylist said “but she has extensions right?” What does that have to do w/ bangs? I still have no idea & my hair was longer than hers anyways. Well she translated side swept bang = thick Bettie Page bangs that were cut to deep around the edge of my face. It looked like a poor attempt at a mullet really. Now Bettie Page bangs work really well on some people, I am not one of them due to the slight curl in my hair which is why I wanted the freakin’ side swept barely count as bangs bangs GRRR! Needless to say I was forced to wear my bangs pinned back until they grew to a reasonable length and I never went back to that salon.

I feel the same way about “I will never leave her”! I finally found a woman who GETS IT and I’m planning to take a train (40 min train ride, 30 min walk from station) back into the city when I move out, just so I don’t have to go to anyone else.


At age 12, despite my extremely curly hair, I decided that if I was going to look like the blonde-haired, blue-eyed girls in my school, I was going to need bangs. Tragically, MomBlue came into the bathroom after the deed was done, not before.

Then, last year, I was traveling overseas for the old job and desperately needed a haircut. I went to the best salon in town… and came out with the most extreme mullet of all time. It looked like this, and I’m really not kidding.

I don’t think I’ve ever had a bad haircut – but that is likely because until last year I was never the least bit adventurous with my hair and it only needed a simple trimming of the ends and the bangs. I got it cut into an angled bob last year and pretty much told the stylist to do whatever she wanted as long as it would be dramatic and noticeable, and fortunately it turned out really well and I’ve been wearing it that way since.

I have, however, made questionable hair styling choices. I’ve always had bangs but for a while I insisted on brushing them to the side of my forehead, except they weren’t cut in a way that made that work, so it just looked goofy. And when it was a popular look, in junior high, I always used to sleep with my wet hair in braids so it would be wavy the next morning – except I could never get the braids started close to my scalp, so there would be about an inch of straight hair before the waves started. There are pictures, and they make me cringe.

I once had a haircut so bad that the ladies I worked with said it looked like a kid was playing with scissors. I spent the rest of the day walking around with the hood of my jacket up asking my coworkers where they got their hair cut. It was one of those reverse bob/posh spice cuts so the back was already pretty short. I ended up finding a wonderful stylist that I spent the next three years seeing on a regular basis. One of the worst things about the terrible haircut was that the stylist that butchered my hair was someone my roommate had been going to for YEARS and loved. It was sort of the start of our huge falling out.

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