So I did it.
I finally did it.
After almost two months of umming, ahhing and cutting my own fringe, I went to a salon that was Not Lee Stafford and got a haircut from someone that was Not Johnny. And even though it was scary to put myself in someone else’s hands after almost three years with Johnny (sob), I had to suck it up and get it done because quite honestly, my hair was a bloody mess.
Anyway, after discussing my options with EVERYONE I’VE EVER MET for the past month, I settled on Blackstones NYC. Recommendation from a lady with super cool hair? Check. Suitable downtown location? Check. Awesome taxidermy on the walls? Not entirely necessary but check, check and double check. So I made my after work appointment with Clara and oh my, but she’s pretty. And funny. And nice. And really, really talented with a pair of scissors. Before I knew what I was doing, I was chatting, laughing, joking and generally enjoying myself. Bad BeautyLover, totally cheating on Johnny.
But he’s not here, is he? I’m in New York, all alone and without my favourite stylist in the world ever. What is a girl to do?
Well, apparently, a girl is to get a great haircut for a really reasonable price. I love Blackstones. I love my hair and I feel like Clara and I are at the beginning of something beautiful.
Even if I did tell my friend my fringe looked a bit Superman 2 just after I got it cut. I have now grown to love it – who knew I had such good eyebrows?
If you’re in New York, head to Blackstones. If you’re in London, go and tell Johnny I still love him. And, you know, stop in for a haircut while you’re there, he’s ever so good.http://0