Client's ‘do takes nose dive when stylist misses the mark
Inspired by Hair-nista in Maryland
It was Jocelyn's birthday, and she and her girls planned to paint the city red that evening. She had made all the preparations: reservations at her favorite Caribbean bistro and a limo to take them all over town.
Last month, she found the perfect bag and shoes to go with her hot new dress that hit every size 18 curve without apology. She had enjoyed a luxurious spa manicure/pedicure and was getting the finishing touches on her brow arch. Now all that was left was the piece de resistance—her ‘do.
To save time, Jocelyn had washed and blow-dried her hair that morning. Now, all she needed her new stylist to do was to crimp her hair. She knew this style would be the perfect jewel to her total look.
Salivating at the thought of how cute she'd look that night, Jocelyn eased into her stylist's chair. "You do know how to crimp hair, right?" Jocelyn asked Daria, the young stylist.
"Sure. I do this style all the time. Don't worry. I got you," Daria said confidently.
"Great," Jocelyn said turning around. She wasn't the type of client who constantly looked in the mirror at her stylist's progress. Instead, the two women chatted freely about shoes, the Braxton sisters, and whether she should eat jerk chicken or curried fish. All during their conversation, Daria diligently worked on Jocelyn's hair.
At last, Daria was finished. "Ready to see," she asked.
Daria gave Jocelyn a mirror and turned her around. Jocelyn's jaw dropped. Her once beautiful straight blow-dried hair had morphed into a Whoopi-esque style.
"This is not what I asked for," said Jocelyn, her voice rising.
"You asked for a crimp style," said Daria, trying hard to maintain her cool.
"Exactly," Jocelyn exclaimed. "This is Whoopi on a bad day!"
Stammering, Daria tried to remain professional. "Look, if you don't like it, I'll knock off 20 percent."
"I don't want a discount," said Jocelyn flatly. "I need you to fix this. It's my birthday. I'm supposed to look good!"
Several clients peeked from under dryer hoods and rose up from shampoo bowls. Other stylists tried hard not to look interested, but their snickers and half coughs gave them away. Daria felt the heat of the attention. Her cheeks flushed.
"I did as you asked," Daria said holding her ground. "I'm sorry if you don't like it. In my professional opinion, you look much better than when you came in."
"Are you serious?!"
"I'll take over from here, Daria," said Casey, the salon owner. "Why don't you go to lunch?"
Without another word, Daria slid out from under Jocelyn's accusatory stare, headed to the back and out the door. Casey examined the mess Daria had made of Jocelyn's tresses.
"Hmmm," Casey said. "What kind of style did you want?"
"Casey, I wanted crimps," Jocelyn said sadly. "But, it might be too late for that."
Casey expertly picked up the styling tools and went to work. This time Jocelyn watched her every move and was in awe at how Casey transformed the mess into a sleek new style that truly complimented Jocelyn's facial features.
"Now this is hot," Jocelyn gushed.
"I'm glad you like it," Casey said smoothly. "It's on me. Happy birthday!"
"Thank you," Jocelyn said. She slipped out the chair and floated out of the salon. Her new ‘do would definitely be her crowning glory that night.
Big lesson learned: Keep your eyes in the mirror as you get your coif polished.
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