Beauty Prison

Due to staggering response to the beauty patrol out-reach program, I felt this topic needed further attention. There are squadrons of discerning men and women coming out in great numbers to help clean up and beautify their communities.

Well done people. Here you can see Bob scoping out the next violator.
Now it would be great to step it up a notch, I would love to see registered beauty patrol squads not only on both coasts but in Texas, the Appalachians, the Ozarks and Utah at the very least.
It might be possible to have Beauty reformatories in every state, as well as  high security facilities available for repeat offenders.

The felonious hair-crime committer would be hauled off to the housgau, the brig, the klink, the can, the joint, the slammer…….THE BEAUTY PRISON.

above you can see a local rally full of eager volunteers itching to be part of the squadron, screaming “PICK ME, PICK ME!”

In the salon we rehabilitate ‘hair don’ts’ day in and day out. But as we all know, some people just never learn. They go out into their cars and wipe off the full face of make-up just applied, change the shape of their freshly manicured nails, whip out the aqua net and rat that hair into oblivion. They race home to the security of the curling iron and jack it all up again.

No matter how fantastic we make them look, they go right back to their life of ‘crime’ and style their hair in the same old way. Now I don’t mean to patronize, but didn’t this type of behaviour get them in trouble in the first place?

I’ll come clean, I do the same thing myself. I get a fab new haircut and after the wonderful, high priced and uber competent stylist completes the blow out I probably look pretty date-able. Nonetheless, I go into the changing room and look in the mirror for an hour or two (while a huge que forms outside). Then I relocate the operation to the loo to inspect some more (sans the queue guilt) and find that the shorter hair has created more cellulite on my butt and thighs and made my ankles thicker too. WTF, How does this happen?????

I walked in feeling okay but in need of a fresher look. I walked out feeling like an overweight man. But I paid and naturally left a generous tip (cause i don’t want her to hate me for not loving it) and of course re-booked my next appointment, and hoped for better outcomes: a raise, a date, a smaller butt, a bigger I.Q.,more blog subscribers etc..

Anywho, once I actually get to the privacy of my own vehicle I whip out my combs and clips and tubes and cans of magic and sparkly shadows and get to work. Note to self:
Always carry an afro wig in handbag, just in case.

OMG I have become “the client”. I know the drill:  I’ll love it in a week when it grows out a bit.
I do my best to keep my insecurities on the down low and remain under the radar until I settle in to the ‘new improved’ me staring back in the mirror.

I am NOT going to get pulled over by a civilian wielding a badge and a blow dryer or be cuffed and dragged kicking and screaming to the big house

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Do you feel me? When it all comes down to it, doesn’t it all come back to the follicle?

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Do you have a story about doing hair or having your hair done? 
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