Heidi-lites

Heidi-lites
Page 3

Hairy Moments
It’s not uncommon to regard your relationship with your hairstylist like a kind of therapy. After all, this person’s job is to make you feel good about yourself. And how can they do that without learning a little about what makes you tick? Hairstyling is an introspective experience in a lot of ways, and your stylist is the only person you share that with.

Well, Lolita learned the hard way that sharing is a two-way street. In fact, the hairstylist isn’t always the therapist in this relationship. Sometimes, they’re the one who needs an impartial ear.

Much to her chagrin, Lo discovered that her stylist was having trust issues with her boyfriend since walking in on him, how shall we say, enjoying his own company. Giving himself a hand. Going on a date with Miss Michigan. See what I’m getting at here? If you were uncomfortable reading those lines, just remember Lo didn’t even have to read between them. Apparently, this was the first thing her stylist said to her after, ‘so what are we doing today?”

What do you do when the stranger who’s cutting your hair asks for personal advice? “I just smiled and nodded a lot. I mean, I’m not a prude, but I couldn’t help but wonder how her boyfriend would feel if he knew she was telling her clients about his personal habits.”

For the record, my hairstylist shared with me his great love of amateur ventriloquism. And no, that is not a euphemism. Stop giggling.

Yeah.

“OK. You know, Heidi Klum… she’s really interesting.”

Like how do you mean?

“Well, I just think it’s pretty amazing how she got where she is, you know?”

Yeah, I don’t really know too much about her background.

“I mean, didn’t she start off as, like, basically a prostitute and then she worked her way up?”

Heidi Klum was a prostitute?!

“Oh, wait, no… no… I’m thinking of that other Heidi…”

Heidi Fleiss?

“Yeah, Heidi Fleiss. Oh my gosh, I’ve been thinking you meant Heidi Fleiss this whole time! Wait a minute, which one’s Heidi Klum?”

So there you have it, people. As sociologists have been warning us for years, the era of the supermodel is officially dead. The era of the former Hollywood madam is, thankfully, still going strong.

Following this exchange, I endured the longest and most-elaborate hair-drying ritual known to humankind. At one point, my hairstylist pulled out a flat iron even though my hair is naturally so straight you could use it to snap a plumb line. But it was all so fantastically girlish that I just ate it up.
Next Page