Embrace the Mullet

The mullet is a hairstyle that is short at the front and sides, and long in the back. Widely panned as a lowbrow and unappealing hairstyle, and facetiously referred to as "business in the front, party in the back..."

A.K.A.

Becky's new hairstyle.

Alas, I am accepting the horrid truth that I have been pushing aside for the past month. I have a mullet. I have been deceiving myself by telling myself that it was just "shorter on the sides," and that I really don't look THAT white trash. I have tried numerous approaches to hide my wretched due. Some attempts have been better than others.
But as fate would have it, I am stuck with the mullet. The dang lady with the poofy hair, the high heels, the long red fingernails with fake diamonds in the middle, the loud music and the leopard print hair cape, was apparently thinking something I was not when she put those scissors to my hair.

What I said: I am here for a trim. Nothing drastic, nothing new, just a trim. I am very happy with my hair style and I just need it spruced up a bit.

What she interpreted it as: She must not like this hair style, I sure don't! How boring. She needs more body on top. She looks tired. She has weird sunburn lines. She smells like the gym. I bet she has 15 kids and lives in a tent. White trash all the way. Perfect candidate for a mullet. Lets do it.

She grabbed the top 1/2 of my hair and literally cut inches off. She didn't even attempt to blend it with the rest of my hair. In fact, she didn't even touch the rest of my hair. I am not kidding! She whacked off 1/2 my hair, ratted it to the point of no return, put a gallon of hairspray all over me and sent me on my way saying, "now you will have some serious body, you are going to love it!"

So, I held the tears back from my eyelashes that were stuck together with hairspray, gave her a $2.00 tip and totally felt ripped off (she should have paid me $2.00 for not sobbing in the chair) , and avoided the mirror at all costs on the drive home.

For the past few weeks, I have just given up. I have worn the back of my hair in ponytails and put the front hair in clips. Sometimes I don't even do my hair at all. What is the point.

While camping this weekend, Mike made the comment: "Just embrace the mullet Becky." We all had a good laugh. But I have decided that is what I will do. After all, it isn't every day I get to look like white trash (I hope) I might as well enjoy it.
I have decided to attempt to do the impossible and tame the while beast on my head.

The only way to fix this hair cut, is to cut my hair incredibly short...not an option for me. So, I will wait out the storm. I will do my best to curl the long hair and hide the short. And I will NEVER go back to leopard lady again!!!!





This is what happens when I try to clip it back. My hair on top is even too short for a clip. Blah!

Strike one.


Last week, I took Sam in for a "trim." We went to a different salon. I told the girl, who looked like she was 10 yrs old and was shaking all over,..."nothing drastic. A one up the sides and then blend it up. A finger cut on top. I like it long enough on top to be able to comb at least a little."

Piece of cake right. WRONG.

20 minutes later, Sam's hair was looking more like a shedding porcupine than a cute little boy cut. 1/2 his hair looked like one of those bowl cuts from the 80's and the other 1/2 was looking like a flat top!

She stopped and looked at Sam with his hair like that, smiled and said, "Good job Sam, you did great. All done!"

My jaw almost hit the ground. Was she seriously thinking of letting us walk out of the hair salon like that. Was she at all thinking about the customers waiting in line who would see this horrible cut. Did she ever want another customer again in her life!

In an effort to save this girl and to save her career in hair cutting, which I learned was about one month long up to that point, I said, "you know, his hair grows really fast, and it is hot outside. Why don't you just buzz it all the way up."

So again, I pay her the tip, feeling totally ripped off, and take my poor son out to the car. Good thing he could care less right now.

Does no one understand the word "TRIM!"



Strike Two.

So, two days ago Ben calls around, finds a good deal, and we walk into the doors of yet another salon.

He tells the lady exactly what he wants. A one on the sides, then blend it up and a finger cut on top. He even used his fingers to show her exactly how long he wanted it.

The lady with strong liquor on her breath and a cute chubby face begins cutting his hair. I spend the next 15 min. trying to figure out why they decorated the hair place with a sail boat theme, and attempt to keep the kids out of everything.

Ben finally is finished, and we get in the car. It was then that he turns to me and says, "what do you think?"
I looked at his hair for the first time since the cut and again, my jaw almost hits the floor. It looks like Mary and Sam had just cut his hair! Seriously, the top of his head looked like ocean waves rolling in nice straight lines. One side was longer than the other and she totally missed some longer hairs.

Ben ended up going back yesterday and had a different lady fix the mess. It now looks like nice smooth watersking water on top, instead of the raging ocean.
At least one hair cut this month was salvageable.

Strike Three.

To add to the drama, earlier this week, I went to throw something away and found some nice, long, locks of blonde hair in the garbage. I found Mary and she confessed to chopping her hair. We all got horrible hair cuts this month, so why not her too? She now has a patch of hair on her head about 3 inches long. Nice.
No, I am not going to take her in to get it fixed. I think she looks better now then she might if I take her somewhere.

Anyone know a place that sells wigs?