Weird Crap That Freaks Amanda Out: Volume 7

I went to the salon. Before I left the esthetician said, “Would you like a free complimentary touch up on your makeup?”

It was not even 10 am and I am on vacation. The salon was the sole reason I got up and ready before noon. I am feeling fresh and my make up is light and summery but apparently, I already look like I need a complimentary touch up. Thanks for the backhanded offer, but no thanks.

Fancy salons freak me out.

I turn into a quiet, scared little thing who has no ability to speak up and say “WHAT THE CRAP ARE YOU DOING TO MY BODY?” Instead, I smile politely and bear it until I can get home and say to whomever will listen, “LOOK AT WHAT THEY DID TO MY BODY.” Maybe it’s just my personality (I want to do it all myself! I am already capable of this! Get your hands off my feet!) or maybe one of their layers of makeup is magic, but those places turn me into a complacent doormat.

I usually get the “you look like crap let me help you spend buttloads of money” impression at fancy salons. A few years ago I had a gift certificate to get my hair done at a ritzy place. The entire time the hairdresser told me that my hair was dull and lifeless. I was not taking proper care of it and there was a thick, waxy build up on my strands. Her solution? Forty dollar shampoo. Oh, and forty dollar conditioner. I have never once been told my hair is dull and lifeless by anyone other than a fancy hairdresser. I have in fact, been told that I could do shampoo commercials (I’m here for you, Pantene).

I have only had one facial in my lifetime. I was approximately 15 years old. I was what you might call a late bloomer, so at 15, my skin was still childlike in nature (ie spectacularly clear). The entire time I was told that I wasn’t taking care of my skin and that it was in really horrible shape. Here, buy this fifty dollar moisturizer. It will help your acne (which at the time was non existent).

I can count the number of professional manicures and pedicures I have had on one hand. For my brother’s wedding, us girls went out to get our nails done. The lady made my cuticle bleed like mad and put some weird nailpolishy thing on it to make it stop. No explanation, no apology. Just something to stop the blood flow. It was the equivalent of someone chewing a piece of gum and using it to plug a leaky boat. I’m rather certain it wasn’t sanitary.

Another time, another wedding, another mani/pedi. This experience was much better, although I don’t think my lady talked to me once, except to ask if I would like my feet to be made one size smaller with a potato peeler. The pictures on the walls freaked me out.

Those are donuts

Maybe I’ve been going to the wrong places or finding the wrong people. Maybe I could be convinced otherwise. Past experience tells me that every time I get all excited to get “pampered” I leave feeling sub par and like I could have done a better job. Also mildly weirded out that I just paid someone to touch my feet.

As a woman I am told that these experiences are wonderful and relaxing. It will help make you feel more beautiful. Honestly, the best experiences I ever had in this area involved myself, my mother, a bottle of nail polish and a mug of tea. The most fun I had as a kid was spending hours alongside my cousin, turning our toenails into butterflies and ladybugs and teddy bears. I’m very much looking forward to the times I will get to paint my nieces’ and/or daughters’ nails and giggle about life. If you want to pamper me, don’t send me to a salon and pay exorbitant amounts of money so a stranger can silently and judgingly remove my bunions. That’s not my idea of being pampered. Give me some good friends, lots of snacks, homemade beauty solutions and a belly full of giggles.

Sorry salons, but you really just freak the crap out of me.

What about you? Salons: love ’em or hate ’em?


10 thoughts on “Weird Crap That Freaks Amanda Out: Volume 7

  1. Okay here’s a story…before I got married I looked at one of my friends photo albums. I said out loud, as a joke, that his nails looked gross in the pictures. Because pictures are forever I joked that I was going to get a manicure. Everyone laughed and was in on the joke…except my mom. Next thing I know she buys me a gft card. I felt bad not using it so I went the day of my wedding. My nails looked great for a women. Worst part is we didn’t get any pictures of our hands. I went through that and have no proof.

  2. I go to two very small salons: one for my hair and one for my nails. My hairstylist and his colorist wife have their own tiny salon and I go to the small nail salon 1/4 mile from my house. I am happy with both of them.

  3. they freak me out too Amanda. Yesterday I spent 3 hours on a picnic blanket in the shade in my yard with my 4 nieces, We painted toes and fingers and did nail art. It was much more fullfilling than a nail salon. However I do LOVE getting my hair done. I love my stylist and she makes a point of always telling everyone else in the salon that I have the thickest hair she has ever seen and everyone should envy me. Kinda makes my day.

  4. Being a guy who keeps things pretty simple, I’ve never been compelled to visit a salon. I hope to keep it that way forever — salons are houses of lies. If I’m going to waste that much money, I’m going to waste it on something fun.

    Also: is that the fuse box next to the weird donut picture? CLASSY.

  5. We’ll file that under reasons it’s nice sometimes to be a guy. I just get a haircut. I have nail clippers at home for “doing my nails.” They have a built in nail file for sharp edges. What more do you need?

    Also, the few times I have ever been in a salon when my mom went to one, if there was a male hairstylist there they were all everything a sitcom ever suggested: verbally effervescent, feminine, and so busy coming up with stylish concepts for your hair that they never listened to what you wanted done.

    You can cut your hair any way you want, mister or miss stylist, but my hair will be cut my way because it is my money that is paying the bill.

  6. Your blog makes me so happy :)

    I usually go to nail salons where they can just talk about my terrible cuticles in their native tongue & I just pretend I don’t notice. Ignorance is bliss.

    If you ever do the same, then this video will be scarily true to real life:

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