Today I registered for a conference. I'm not sure if it's the best conference in the world (the seminars sound interesting, but the online reviews aren't great), but there ought to be at least one or two solid takeaways I can bring back to my job. So cross your fingers that my first dip into the world of professional development turns out well!
I also... um... had six inches cut off of my hair. At least six. I hadn't planned on doing it, but I had just signed up for cooking classes and registered for this conference and gotten new adjustments in my yoga class and I was running around the office managing an event this afternoon and at one point I saw how disheveled I looked, with my eighteen-odd inches of hair shoved out of my face by two bobby pins, and I thought "this is not the image of success I want to portray."
And yes, it is completely lame that I actually thought the phrase "image of success," but I went out immediately after work and asked one of Dupont Circle's nice young gay salon artists to please make me over, and he did.
I guess that's what writing out New Year's goals will do to you. (I wonder what crazy thing I will do next?)
Showing posts with label hair. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hair. Show all posts
Monday, January 5, 2009
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Lush
Growing up in the boondocks, I had never heard of Lush (the all-natural organic body shop) until about six months ago. The first time I went into a Lush store I had to be literally dragged out because I wanted to smell everything.
I never bought anything, though, until two days ago.
Shopping at Lush is an unusual experience. The sales staff all look like goth grrls, with the chains and the piercings and the black fingernail polish, and yet they are so perky when they start talking about the soaps. It's like their dye jobs are black, but their voices are BRIGHT PINK. With BUBBLES.
They also want to show you everything. Now, a clever salesperson might figure out, after handing me a few soaps to sniff and sample, that I reacted much more positively to the soaps that smell like baked goods than I did to the soaps that smelled like citrus-'n-lawn-clippings. (No offense to Jungle, seriously. Just... I do not need to wash with something that smells like yard.) So I kind of expected my happy helper to start pulling out the obvious choices: Porridge, Honey I Washed The Kids, Gingerman, etc. Instead she showed me everything in the store, and didn't ever stop, even when I lingered over something, to say anything useful like "would you like me to put some of that up at the counter for you?"
At the end I finally had to stop her and say "look, I think I've decided." I ended up with a sort of soap sampler platter: palm-sized chunks of Trichomania and Seanik for my hair, Porridge and Figs and Leaves for my skin, and a bottle of Sonic Death Monkey shower gel, which smelled so good I couldn't stop sniffing it and which a smart salesperson would have tried to upgrade to the larger bottle. (A smart salesperson would have had that shower gel sale closed the minute she saw my reaction to my first inhale. Instead she said "Why don't you come over here and look at this Lemon Fruity Thing?")
I've had the chance now to try everything out, and here are my reviews:
Porridge, despite it's delicious smell (warm oatmeal with brown sugar and molasses), isn't much of a soap. It melts away too quickly and leaves my skin feeling a little sticky.
Figs and Leaves reminds me a lot of the Mysore Sandal Soap I used to buy in Hyderabad -- same kind of scent and feel -- but although it is a fine soap in itself it just makes me miss my sandal soap and wish I could buy that instead.
Seanik seems to be a strong overall shampoo and I like the idea that a single bar will last me for over two months.
Trichomania almost made me cry. It promised to make my straight hair curl, and really I should stop believing things like that, even from all-natural organic soap shops, because all it did was tangle my hair into a gigantic knot which took me nearly fifteen minutes to comb out -- and it completely dried my hair out, too (I'll have to attack it with a deep conditioner tomorrow to make up the damage). Surprisingly, it did live up to its promise and added a bit of wave; but it was not worth the cost. I probably shouldn't have picked a shampoo that seems to share its name with a worm that lives in uncooked pork.
But to make up for everything else... Sonic Death Monkey is the best and most awesome kind of soap I've ever used anywhere. I want to buy bottles and send them to everyone I know, although if there's one thing I've gathered from the various Lush product reviews it's that different soaps seem to work well for different people. Some people like Lemon Fruity Things, some like nasty shampoos, and I guess in my case I like the combination of coffee, orange oil, lime juice, and hemp. ^__^
Yay soap!
I never bought anything, though, until two days ago.
Shopping at Lush is an unusual experience. The sales staff all look like goth grrls, with the chains and the piercings and the black fingernail polish, and yet they are so perky when they start talking about the soaps. It's like their dye jobs are black, but their voices are BRIGHT PINK. With BUBBLES.
They also want to show you everything. Now, a clever salesperson might figure out, after handing me a few soaps to sniff and sample, that I reacted much more positively to the soaps that smell like baked goods than I did to the soaps that smelled like citrus-'n-lawn-clippings. (No offense to Jungle, seriously. Just... I do not need to wash with something that smells like yard.) So I kind of expected my happy helper to start pulling out the obvious choices: Porridge, Honey I Washed The Kids, Gingerman, etc. Instead she showed me everything in the store, and didn't ever stop, even when I lingered over something, to say anything useful like "would you like me to put some of that up at the counter for you?"
At the end I finally had to stop her and say "look, I think I've decided." I ended up with a sort of soap sampler platter: palm-sized chunks of Trichomania and Seanik for my hair, Porridge and Figs and Leaves for my skin, and a bottle of Sonic Death Monkey shower gel, which smelled so good I couldn't stop sniffing it and which a smart salesperson would have tried to upgrade to the larger bottle. (A smart salesperson would have had that shower gel sale closed the minute she saw my reaction to my first inhale. Instead she said "Why don't you come over here and look at this Lemon Fruity Thing?")
I've had the chance now to try everything out, and here are my reviews:
Porridge, despite it's delicious smell (warm oatmeal with brown sugar and molasses), isn't much of a soap. It melts away too quickly and leaves my skin feeling a little sticky.
Figs and Leaves reminds me a lot of the Mysore Sandal Soap I used to buy in Hyderabad -- same kind of scent and feel -- but although it is a fine soap in itself it just makes me miss my sandal soap and wish I could buy that instead.
Seanik seems to be a strong overall shampoo and I like the idea that a single bar will last me for over two months.
Trichomania almost made me cry. It promised to make my straight hair curl, and really I should stop believing things like that, even from all-natural organic soap shops, because all it did was tangle my hair into a gigantic knot which took me nearly fifteen minutes to comb out -- and it completely dried my hair out, too (I'll have to attack it with a deep conditioner tomorrow to make up the damage). Surprisingly, it did live up to its promise and added a bit of wave; but it was not worth the cost. I probably shouldn't have picked a shampoo that seems to share its name with a worm that lives in uncooked pork.
But to make up for everything else... Sonic Death Monkey is the best and most awesome kind of soap I've ever used anywhere. I want to buy bottles and send them to everyone I know, although if there's one thing I've gathered from the various Lush product reviews it's that different soaps seem to work well for different people. Some people like Lemon Fruity Things, some like nasty shampoos, and I guess in my case I like the combination of coffee, orange oil, lime juice, and hemp. ^__^
Yay soap!
Saturday, July 5, 2008
"Honey, Now You Have A Style!"
I haven't cut my hair in three years.
This is not exactly true. I trimmed it, twice, using hair scissors I bought at Walgreens; but I haven't been in any kind of hair salon since I started graduate school.
By the end of three years my hair was really long.
Sure, it was pretty, but it had started to become a hassle. It was impossible to dry, so I felt like I was spending half of every day going around with wet hair in a messy bun. When it was out of the bun, it kept catching on things, like the back of the office-supply chair I sit in while I temp.
Since I'm going in for a job interview on Monday, I thought it was about time to get a few inches chopped off.
Before I went, I did my research -- and there was plenty of information to be found. In the end, though, for every "I went to XYZ Salon and got the best haircut ever," there was one that read "Well, I went to XYZ Salon and asked for a Posh Bob and got a Katie Holmes Bob instead, and went home and cried."
In the end I wasn't able to make any kind of real comparisons between potential salon quality, and so ended up choosing my first-haircut-in-three-years salon based on how far I would have to walk to get there.
VSL Hair Design.
The next step was finding "the picture," since the salon reviews left the uncomfortable impression that unless you bring along a picture of your desired haircut, you're liable to end up with a Nicole Richie Bob, which is even worse than a Katie Holmes one.
Okay, fine. A picture of a woman with fine, straight hair, medium length, something that would look good on a square face... got it.
(The funny thing is that Cameron is, like, one of my least favorite characters on House. But Jennifer Morrison has baby-fine, super-straight hair. So there you go.)
The VSL experience was pretty awesome. Even though it's a "value" chain (okay, that was the other reason I picked it), it was a far step beyond the MasterCuts and SuperCuts I used to frequent. I got a consultation, during which my stylist took one look at my picture ("House is such a great show!") and then began to explain the components of the haircut and ask me if I was okay with all of them. He was appreciative that I had done my homework and not picked a style that wouldn't work with my hair, and told me the look was totally achievable.
When he started cutting, I mentioned that he was giving me my first haircut in three years. My stylist looked appalled. He spent a moment carefully studying my hair, and then said "Well, it's incredible that it isn't damaged, but it looks like it's in really good shape."
(I didn't respond to this, but I'm curious: wouldn't messing around with hair cause more damage than leaving it alone? I never flatironed or curled my hair, or razored it or anything like that. I just washed, brushed, and braided. So... um... yeah, it isn't damaged.)
In the end it's a little shorter than Dr. Cameron's, and my cowlick prevented the bangs from falling against my forehead like the picture. But... it still looks fantastic.
Or, as my stylist said,
"Honey, now you have a style!"
This is not exactly true. I trimmed it, twice, using hair scissors I bought at Walgreens; but I haven't been in any kind of hair salon since I started graduate school.
By the end of three years my hair was really long.
Sure, it was pretty, but it had started to become a hassle. It was impossible to dry, so I felt like I was spending half of every day going around with wet hair in a messy bun. When it was out of the bun, it kept catching on things, like the back of the office-supply chair I sit in while I temp.
Since I'm going in for a job interview on Monday, I thought it was about time to get a few inches chopped off.
Before I went, I did my research -- and there was plenty of information to be found. In the end, though, for every "I went to XYZ Salon and got the best haircut ever," there was one that read "Well, I went to XYZ Salon and asked for a Posh Bob and got a Katie Holmes Bob instead, and went home and cried."
In the end I wasn't able to make any kind of real comparisons between potential salon quality, and so ended up choosing my first-haircut-in-three-years salon based on how far I would have to walk to get there.
VSL Hair Design.
The next step was finding "the picture," since the salon reviews left the uncomfortable impression that unless you bring along a picture of your desired haircut, you're liable to end up with a Nicole Richie Bob, which is even worse than a Katie Holmes one.
Okay, fine. A picture of a woman with fine, straight hair, medium length, something that would look good on a square face... got it.
(The funny thing is that Cameron is, like, one of my least favorite characters on House. But Jennifer Morrison has baby-fine, super-straight hair. So there you go.)The VSL experience was pretty awesome. Even though it's a "value" chain (okay, that was the other reason I picked it), it was a far step beyond the MasterCuts and SuperCuts I used to frequent. I got a consultation, during which my stylist took one look at my picture ("House is such a great show!") and then began to explain the components of the haircut and ask me if I was okay with all of them. He was appreciative that I had done my homework and not picked a style that wouldn't work with my hair, and told me the look was totally achievable.
When he started cutting, I mentioned that he was giving me my first haircut in three years. My stylist looked appalled. He spent a moment carefully studying my hair, and then said "Well, it's incredible that it isn't damaged, but it looks like it's in really good shape."
(I didn't respond to this, but I'm curious: wouldn't messing around with hair cause more damage than leaving it alone? I never flatironed or curled my hair, or razored it or anything like that. I just washed, brushed, and braided. So... um... yeah, it isn't damaged.)
In the end it's a little shorter than Dr. Cameron's, and my cowlick prevented the bangs from falling against my forehead like the picture. But... it still looks fantastic.
Or, as my stylist said,"Honey, now you have a style!"
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