I Got a Great Clip at Great Clips

Getting haircuts is kind of like flying on airplanes: you know the person doing the job is much better at it than you’ll ever be, but what if they make a mistake?

So I tend to put off getting haircuts for as long as possible. (There’s also a frugal argument in there: the longer I wait between cuts, the fewer cuts I need in a year, the more money I save. Something like that.)

I also have a $10 pair of hair scissors that I bought at CVS, and I use them to relentlessly trim the Florence Henderson-esque growth off the bottom of my hair. But eventually it’s no longer enough just to hack at the mini-mullet growing at the back of my head, and I have to pay someone to take care of it.

My last haircut was on April 5, 2014. I hated it. I wanted my usual longish, soft pixie cut, but I got… well, I think I shouldn’t have used the word “fluffy” to describe what I was looking for, because I came out looking like an un-evolved Pokemon.

The celebrity picture you bring to the haircut is important. I’m not the only person who always brings a celebrity photo to the session, right? I usually bring a picture of Carey Mulligan, circa Shame, because her face looks kinda like mine and her longish pixie with the front part twisted and pinned back is pretty much how I wear my hair all the time. (I try and stick at least one bobby pin in my hair every day because I put my hands in my hair when I get nervous, and having the bobby pin in there prevents me from doing that.)

Once I brought in a picture of Emma Watson’s pixie cut. I got a really great haircut off that pic, but it made me feel weird. Bringing in someone who is way younger than you, or has a completely different face shape, or — let’s be honest — is way prettier than you just feels wrong. I already feel like the stylist is judging me for bringing in celebrity hair instead of, say, a selfie of a really good hair day. We take so many selfies now that there should be no excuse for bringing in a celebrity picture.

And then I saw the trailer for The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby and thought “I have to get that haircut.” I’ve got this cowlick — which, by the way, how did we all agree to call it a “cowlick?” — which makes some of the hair over my forehead go up and back instead of down and forward, which is why I only get bangs once a decade and then remind myself why I can’t ever get bangs. But Jessica Chastain’s hair, in that movie, also goes up and back. And it’s a longish, soft pixie cut. And she’s age-appropriate.

So I went to Great Clips. I could have gone to any of the numerous hipster hair salons in Seattle, and trust me I’ve been to a few, but I was just not feeling paying $70 for a haircut plus tip, especially with a stylist who is probably going to try and talk me into something a little more edgy, even though I was at that very moment wearing a sundress from Ann Taylor Loft. Look upon my sundress, oh stylists, and know: I’m not edgy. I am basic and tidy and functional.

Mario at Great Clips took one look at Jessica Chastain’s swept-back pixie cut and gave me that exact haircut in 10 minutes. It was an amazing experience. The haircut cost me $15 and I tipped 100 percent.

In six weeks I’m so going back to Mario. Or maybe eight weeks. Maybe I can stretch it to two months. We’ll see how it grows.

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