WEDNESDAY, JUNE 14, 2017
We met because she was the only hairdresser willing to chop my hair off in 1987. My hair is fine and thin; basically bad hair. I spent my childhood in pink foam rollers and then my teens and early 20s suffering through perms. I don’t have the patience or ability to “do hairstyles.” Don encouraged me to cut my hair and he kept saying, “Shorter, shorter.” Not the typical male response so you see why we are a good fit! Anyway, Dawn said, “okay,” and we’ve been together ever since. Today was our monthly visit….
Well, we’ve separated a time or two; maternity breaks or illnesses have required I go to other hairdressers. They were fine but Dawn is my gal. She’s seen me through it all.
Orange hair. Yes in the course of 2 hours, a hairdresser inexperienced with color turned my hair bright Clemson orange, then canary yellow and ultimately Billy Idol white. Finally, she called Dawn, who was on maternity leave, to get the fix.
Another time I thought I could color my own hair. I turned it green. Actually, it gave off an creepy greenish glow. Looked like my chakras weren’t aligned or I was an alien. Katie called Dawn who was on vacation at Disney World. She talked Katie through the drugstore aisles and told her what to put on my hair until she could get back to fix it.
Once one of my children contracted lice at preschool. I picked her up, we did the whole awful process that families dread when the school nurse whispers the word “LICE.” On her arrival back to preschool, they wouldn’t take her. Said they saw a nit in her hair and she couldn’t stay. I was to tears. I called Dawn. Dawn called the preschool and assured them we weren’t a dirty gross family and as a hair care professional she verified the examined child was FINE. She fought the school on behalf of my child. If not before, for sure now, she had by undying love.
When Anne was about 11-years old, she begged and begged for highlights in her hair. I resisted for a long time. I mean what 11-year old needs her hair colored. If you know Anne, you know, the battle is futile. She wore me down. I finally relented because, well, it’s only hair and wasn’t worth the battle. I wouldn’t pay for a child to have a professional job though, so I set out to do it myself. After I got through with it, Anne had a long wide white streak down her hair’s center part. She looked like a skunk. The girls were headed to camp the next day. Katie insisted that Anne could not arrive at camp looking like a skunk. She would be the laughing stock of the camp. So early Sunday morning, on the way to Camp Kanuga, Dawn met us at her salon and fixed Anne’s hair.
When Katie was getting married, Anne was convinced her hair looked awful. It didn’t but she was completely spun up about it. Now you know, as the mother of the bride, I didn’t have time for that drama. I called Dawn. She was just leaving her house, but stopped to get some sort of hair tools or products. She found Anne before the wedding and fiddled with it. I don’t think she did much more than pouf it a bit. But her attention and professional reassurance was all it took. All was well.
Butch, Dawn’s dog, is the first goldendoodle I knew and he is basically the reason I fell in love with goldendoodles. I’ve bribed his affection as I never arrive without a pocket full of treats.
These are the funny and fun aspects of our long friendship, but the real stories are the ones where we cried over raising children, discussed God and politics, grieved over the loss of relatives and friends. Basically all the things that good friends or sisters of the soul do for each other.
I love visiting my sweet friend who also happens to know everything about hair!!!
