I got my first ever Keratin treatment today. With the cut and color, it cost about as much as our first home’s mortgage payment.
Needless to say, it was put on my super-secret credit card.
After signing away the GDP of Chad, the stylist tried to hand me the receipt.
Stylist: Here you go.
Me: Are you fucking crazy?? Do you think I want evidence of this laying around the house??? If I divorce my husband one day, I’ll wallpaper my house with a stack of these. Until then, I’ll pass, thankyouverymuch.
Stylist: We get that a lot.
To those of you with beautifully manageable hair who probably think I’m completely insane, shut up. You just don’t understand what it’s like to carry around a heavy mop of hair that, left to its own devices, would look like Edward Scissorhands’ hair. Only frizzier. Never mind that time I almost set it on fire trying to straighten it.
I was on the verge of tears when the stylist was explaining how this miracle product was going to change my life.
Stylist: You’ll be able to let your hair dry naturally.
Me: I don’t understand those words. I…I won’t have to…blow it dry?
Stylist: Nope. If you let it dry naturally, your hair will have a pretty, manageable curl. If you blow it dry (with your hands!), it will look like it looked when you used to straighten it. If you use a flat iron, it’ll look like Jennifer Aniston’s hair.
Me: I can’t even get my brain around those words. You realize that what you’re telling me is on par with me telling you that if you flap your arms you’ll fly, right???
A few hours later, I was telling a friend of mine (with a uterus, obviously, for no man alive – even a gay one – would understand, of this I am certain) about my huge expenditure, and she told me to enjoy it while I can because they’re about to become illegal.
Girlfriend: Yeah. They’re already banned in several states. It’s just a matter of time before they ban them here.
Girlfriend: Because they’re poisonous. The fumes that come off it when they straighten your hair are toxic.
I looked it up. Turns out it’s formaldehyde.
So, now I’m going to get hair cancer.
And I’m OK with that.
What? Stop judging me.