PROM SEASON.

In my opinion, it's the most wonderful time of the year. (Yes, I will sing it loud and proud if I have to.) And it's here. My obsession with it may be because I'm a girl who loves to get dolled up and dance. So of course helping girls get all dolled up is my fav. I love the crazy/chaotic vibe that runs through the salon. I mean they're all little crazy kooks but it's always a good time for me. 

The girls show up, usually late. RACING into the salon like they're running a 5k while their mother speeds away to park the car.

"I HAVE AN APPOINTMENT!"

Because I get way too excited, I'm usually up at the front waiting. So I take her back and once she has her robe on I'll ask her if she needs anything. (water, coffee, tea) She'll shake her head while texting. -rude- We sit and of course, like all girls, she doesn't know what she wants to do with her hair. So I start asking the questions- How do you usually wear your hair? Whats your dress look like? All that jazz. 
Mom finally walks in. She has now broken a sweat and misplaced an earring. -Bless you-  (I feel like I should mention to her that the massage school is right next door because she is a frantic mess.) She calmly suggests some things that her daughter automatically vetoes, because it's her mother. And we usually settle on something similar to what Taylor swift had on the red carpet. (THEY LOVE T-SWIFT.) This year however, braids are in...

EEEVVRRRRYYBODYS GOTTA HAVE A BRAID. 

Now, I'm not the best. But I'm pretty fucking good.

AND OF COURSE the one thing I'm ehhh not so great at is the god damn braid. Everyone wants it.

What about a nice sleek front with some height? Or maybe lots or curls pulled back off your face?... no. BRAID. COOL. You saw that on Pinterest didn't you? You little kook.  No big deal though. I suck it up and give them the best god damn braid my little fingers can give. Then I call over Steph or Amanda to give an even better one because my updos need a braid that is perfection. Anything less is completely unacceptable. Mom comes over every so often to check up on her little darling while I work away to create the best looking updo her friends have ever seen. I've been told - "all of her friends were jealous" ha.

By the time we're all done my hands and arms are coated with a strong hold hairspray and maybe a few curling iron burns. (anything for the kooks) I send her ass up to make-up and after it's all done she will go have the best night of her life. 

I guess now that I'm typing it all out it doesn't seem all that glorious. I can understand why some stylists dread it. Maybe I'm a kook too. Maybe I love the crazy girls because I'm a crazy girl. Who knows. The heart wants what it wants right?

    Stay fabulous. (with out the braids)

-Alex

wtf?^

              

For you. Or maybe for me ;)