I haven’t had my hair done professionally in about 3 years. I’ve cut it myself a few times which I learned was a big mistake. I’ve sprouted some gray and in between trying to embrace aging, frugality, and traveling, I haven’t had my hair properly done.
But, dammit, it’s fucking time.
My hair is long and unruly, always in a bun.
I’m tweezing gray hairs, which is no different of an attitude than coloring them I now realize. I mean, if I want to embrace them, then let them be. The fact that I’m tweezing them means I don’t want them, and I’m not ready to get intimate with aging.
I started dreaming about getting my hair done.
As I walked around town, I noted salons and contemplated options.
I started getting more excited about the idea. There’s the whole la bella figura thing in Italy – first impressions being molto importante (very important). I find myself wearing makeup way more often here, and I’m rethinking my style and clothes. I bought pants that actually fit the other day – as in, you can see my butt in them because they’re not baggy or have an elastic waistband.
It made sense to do something about my hair.
Which salon do I go to?
Referrals are the answer when it comes to hair salons. Naturally, I asked our rock star law team (ICA) in Rovigo for a salon recommendation. They confidently answered, Jean Louis David.
It was time to get a proper style. I’m in Italy after all. They know a thing or two about that stuff.
Knowing they didn’t take appointments, I ventured over there today. They didn’t speak English, but with Google translate and my flexibility on what they did to my hair (nothing lasts forever, right?), I was comfortable that I was in good hands.