I have always been a people pleaser. I believe this is why I have been so successful as a colorist. I love to make other people happy. Sometimes this requires doing things you wouldn’t usually do.
As a professional, I feel it is necessary to inform a client when they ask for a color that I do not think will flatter them, or is outdated. At the same time, if they are determined to achieve that look, they will get it, whether it is done in my chair or someone else’s. Most of the time, I would rather give the client the service they want than lose them. Hopefully, once I have gained more trust, that same client will let me personalize or modernize the color. For the rare client will not change their look for years and years, I can at least promise the consistent results they desire. Again, it's all about making people feel good.
The value of this really hit me last winter. I was visiting my family in Ohio for Christmas. My 90-year-old grandmother had been sick in bed for over a week. She didn’t leave the house to come celebrate the holiday with the rest of my family at my parents’ house. My uncle who lives with her said that her hair was one big tangle from not brushing it for the last week. My sister and father and I planned to go over to her house and visit while I was in town. I decided to stop by the beauty supply store on my way so I could buy a boar bristle brush and maybe help untangle her hair.
When I arrived at my grandma’s house, I was not prepared for her appearance, even with my uncle’s descriptions. Her fine, thin hair that usually fell halfway down her back in a ponytail or braid was all on top of her head like a big hairy bird’s nest. She looked more frail and weak than ever before. I told her that I would like to fix her hair, and she wished me luck. My uncle tried to detangle her hair before but she made him stop because it hurt too much. “Well it’s a good thing I am a professional,” I assured her, and she smiled.
First, I had my uncle fetch me all the scissors they had in the house. I really do not like cutting hair, but this was the closest thing to a haircutting emergency that I have ever seen. My grandma did not have high expectations; she said I could shave the whole thing off if I needed to. I didn’t want to do that to her, so I started brushing the nest. I brushed, and brushed, and cut the knots that I couldn’t undo. I spent two hours brushing and cutting her hair, and it was worth every minute to just be there with her. She commented how lucky she was to have a hairstylist come all the way from Atlanta to cut her hair.
The haircut was not perfect, but it was the best chin length bob I could have hoped for with the tools available. Most stylists would not be proud of such an average haircut, but it was one of my proudest moments in eight years of hairdressing because of how it made my grandma look and feel. Her spirits were perked up, and she didn’t look as weak and frail anymore. Still, I had no illusions that she would suddenly not be sick anymore.
That day was the last time I saw my grandma alive. She passed away the last week of January. I grieved, of course, but I took comfort in knowing that I was able to give her that last haircut, and make her a little more comfortable during that final month of her life. I’ll say it again, it's all about making people feel good.
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