I usually get my hair done when I visit my parents in Kuala Lumpur. It’s cheaper and the exchange rates means visits to branded hair salons there is cheaper than the average Singapore hair salons. But being heavily pregnant at 35 weeks now, I won’t be going to KL anytime soon. And just in case Baby Deng decides it’s time to see the world, I decided to go for a trim while I still can.
I chose to go to the neighbourhood mall as I could do a quick trip there and back without me or The Mister being worried about me going by myself.
I should be given credit for not being overly fussy about who touches my hair, despite my hair being thick, unruly and generally quite a challenge to manage. I am always open to explore different hairdressers as they might give me a different interpretation of hairstyle that might actually be a refreshing change to what I’m used to.
I did ask for bangs. But I didn’t expect this chap to make a quick nick without asking me how short I’d like it to be, in which style it should take on, etc. I was expecting soft bangs with a hint of glamour or chicness to it. I was seriously annoyed ending up with the stereotype Chinese chick look. Like super ah lian man. Beh tahan.
Bright side. It will grow out during the time I wait for Baby Deng to arrive and after.
The Mister is wise enough to insist he loves it. Says it makes him feel like he’s married to a younger looking wife.
I’m suspicious though because the last time I dismissed his insistence to go to his regular barber over a quick and convenient haircut, he had a horrible experience and a terrible haircut. I had to rectify the situation then with a lot of praise and insistence that he looked really good and sexy to me. I think his snicker at my haircut was reminiscent of that incident.
Sigh. It will grow out. It will grow out. It will grow out.