Monday, May 16, 2005 Some people go to work on Monday
My own workplace is closed for the hair conevntion downtown. I'm not going. I went yesterday, and that's probably enough. There were models dressed in outfits so silly that to describe them makes me feel like a liar: chaps made of feathers. I saw it with my own eyes, and still, I'm convinced that I just made that up.
The floor of the convention center was divided into booths, which I imagine is the way that conventions work, but I don't know, because it was my first one. My favorite section was the bargain shopping area, where promotional bags and free-with-purchase items were being resold to the hairdressers and I at rock-bottom prices. Had these items not come free or cheap from the manufacturers anyway, it would have been the deal of the century. There were tables and tables stacked with fake hair and cheap sunglasses. When a table had something pretty good, there was no way to get up to it without shoving elaborately dressed little women out of the way.
At other, classier booths, one could watch all kinds of things being demonstrated. Here was a woman in her fifties in heavy makeup, lying on her back on a quasi-medical looking couch with her arms folded over her chest like a mummy. She was there to demonstrate someone's eyebrow waxing technique, and when they pulled away the strips, she didn't flinch.
On stages all over the place, seventeen year olds were having things done to their hair that no one would believe if these procedures weren't facts of their day-to-day lives. Hair sizzled and smoked, and a man with a southern accent said, "You can sell flat-irons all day. They love it."
A woman at another booth applied highlights, and said, "We don't want any lines here. We want it to look natural." It may have been my imagination that told me she had cast a sidelong glance at my own highlights.
I was supposed to go there to take a class on how to be a better beauty parlor receptionist, because sometimes people conceive of such things, and then others pay them for their wicked ideas. It turns out they changed the hair convention schedule without notice, and the class was later in the day, so I blew it off. I saw my boss and told her I couldn't stay, and she said she would take notes and later share them with me. posted by Frenz | 5/16/2005 02:12:00 PM
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