the 'shear' terror of it all...

getting one's hair cut and colored in a foreign country where you must rely on unspoken language to get what you desire is terrifying. for the last three weeks, i have been telling myself to go get a hair cut, go get it colored, just go. but i have put it off with the hopes that maybe it would magically just color and trim itself. no such luck. so today, i ventured out into the great unknown. i found myself a salon and just dove right in, hoping for the best.

i went to frank provost, a chain of salons in paris. there are probably about 50 of these salons all over the city, and i figured if there were that many, it couldn't be too bad. and i figured that the french are known for being chic, and that hopefully they would turn my cheveux into something of the chic sort.

i walked in. i asked if they had time to cut and color my hair. well, bien sur they did. the girl knew i was foreign, knew i didnt speak her tongue. but she did not bite, she was sweet. i was seated at a station, given a paris vogue, and told that the girl with the curly blonde hair would be over shortly to discuss color. she came over shortly and i tried my best in my broken french to tell her that i wanted to be dark brown, but without red. i always fucking manage to walk out of the salon with a hint of red in my hair. we agreed on a color. then she said the girl with the short brown hair would do something to me. she was the one to slather my scalp with goo. now, this is where it got scary. my roots have grown out about an inch or two, and the girl had said how that area was much lighter than the rest. when girl #2 started painting my scalp, that was all she did...my scalp. i kept thinking, 'fuck, im going to walk out of here with half of my head dark and the other half light and somewhat red.' the whole process of her coloring my hair was quick, but i felt at unease the entire time. another girl in need of haircare was seated next to me, and it was revealed that she, too, did not speak much french...my kindred spirit, more or less. it was comforting to know that someone else was probably internalizing all of their hair-related anxiety at that very same moment. she was only getting a cut. color is where it gets scary. but my color turned out great, a pretty perfect match to what it had been. and for the cut...my stylist was great, i told her that i wanted her bangs and we just made an agreement on my hair in that unspoken language. she knew what i wanted from my poor french and too many hand motions.

in the end, my hair looks good. normal. and i dont have fucking cleopatra bangs like last year - i made sure to tell them 'pas trop court!' ha, and the guy who did that to me last year spoke english. rubbish, i say.

does anyone know what a standard tip is for getting one's hair cut/colored in paris? i left five euros each for my colorist and my cutter, and the girl who checked me out (the cutter) was in shock that i gave her five euros. 'vous etes tres gentile!' was all she kept saying. and then asked if she would be seeing me bientot. peut-etre, ma cherie, peut-etre...