Until I was about 13, I had virgin hair. My long black strands were shiny, healthy and only incurred slight damage from daily blowouts and the occasional hot curlers. But one day, on a whim, one of my older sisters suggested I get highlights. With the older-sister-knows-best mentality, I went for it — despite the fact that I knew my mother would be livid. She believed in going au naturel when it came to my hair color because she thought it made me look more Chinese and less Americanized.
This has gone on too long.
I have felt like a degenerate teenager with my trendy/rebellious golden-streaked locks that don’t match any of my pretty Spring/Summer wardrobe for far too long.
Just as I was about to purchase a home hair-dye kit, my editor asks me, “Do you want to get your ombre locks fixed by this famous Beverly Hills colorist?”
Thank you, Lord for answering my prayers.
I set an appointment to the luxe Neil George Salon in Beverly Hills, frequented by Reese Witherspoon, Laguna Beach starlets, and Hollywood housewives.
Entering the salon, I was surprised by how hip the atmosphere is. I usually associate Beverly Hills salons with stuffy, boring, pretentiousness but this was neither as the vibe was bustling and colorful and the folks were friendly and inviting.
It’s cliche but it’s true.
You never know what you have until it’s gone.
My hair was getting long.
It was starting to just become this wisp of a thing that planted flat against my head and clung lifelessly by its roots. Sure, sometimes it was pretty but it was bOring!
Like all restless souls, I needed a change. I wanted to set aside my prudish reputation and BE COOL for once.