The last time a hairdresser made me cry

styleconnections
Written By Heather Hankinson

Last year, a new friend invited my partner and I to a birthday party. 

Like every party since my own fifth birthday, I approached the date with my own special brand of unwise and fervent tenacity. 

When I was five, this looked like staying up to the point of exhaustion the night before and then wearing my yellow princess dress from the second I woke up to the time of the event, the ridiculously late time of 3pm, by which time I was wired, sweaty and food-stained.

Now at the grand age of thirty-five, preparation looks like booking an updo with a stylist… wait for it… who I had never been to before.

You can see where this is going. 

I'll get straight to the ‘asked for’ and ‘left with’ pictures.

Just scroll back and forth between the two for a minute to really take in the multitude of tiny discrepancies that results in complete hideousness.

Like any other lilly-livered, yellow-bellied adult, I paid the $165 bill - I still don’t understand how they calculated this, how!? - and was crying by the time I walked through my own front door 😭 

I sent the above pic to my most honest friend, who replied:

Crushing, but honest, and exactly what I needed. 

So when I was thinking about a new business idea that I knew didn’t exist anywhere else, without any prior explanation, I sent her this and got this response:

Frankly, it was as encouraging as it was uncanny.

The idea I had in mind was 

  1. Finding, testing, and presenting excellent products,

  2. Delivering them to spread a little excitement when nothing really does at this particular point in our lunch-box-packing-lives, let’s face it, 

  3. and being very opinionated about it all. 

This time though, it’s going to take me longer to sort out than the hair-do.

(Of course I did a better job and in less time, see below, toot-toot 📯).

It’s going to take about three months longer. 

On 1 July I’m launching seasonal packages of really good shit for our really normal lives.

I’m calling it The Nom Edit.

 
Heather Hankinson
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