Hairstyle Appreciation Day
Did you know that today is Hairstylist Appreciation Day?
Of course not. It's easy to miss, which is why I wrote a column about it a couple of years ago. Here it is:
Humor me: Hairstylist appreciation
By MATT WIXON
The Dallas Morning News
To the woman with the spiked pink hair, I'm sorry that I don't remember your name.
But that doesn't mean our 30-minute relationship didn't mean anything to me. So the next time you put on spandex pants and drive to work for a day of split-end analysis, pondering of perms and other coif consultations, please know that you are remembered. This one's for you:
You work a trimmer with style and grace,
never leaving a single hair out of place,
and because you wield a sharp pair of shears,
thanks for not cutting off one of my ears.
Hairstyle Appreciation Day, also recognized as Hairstylist Appreciation Day, was April 30. Yes, we all missed it as we turned our attention to holidays such as Morse Code Day (April 27) and Save the Rhino Day (May 1).
Or maybe you never even knew there was a Hairstylist Appreciation Day, because the hairstylist lobbying group has yet to convince Congress to make it a federal holiday.
It's a tough sell for the hairstylist coalition because one of the privileges of U.S. senators and representatives, as spelled out in the U.S. Constitution, is free haircuts. But from what I've seen on C-SPAN, a free haircut doesn't always mean a good haircut. That's why, before launching my political career, I will make this pledge to voters:
"My fellow Americans, like many of my colleagues, I am cruising toward Baldness Boulevard. But if you elect me to work in Washington, D.C., I will never take my remaining hair, grow it long, swirl it around and create a Capitol Hill on the top of my head."
That pledge might get me elected someday, but right now I'm concentrating on the hairstylist vote. Actually, I just want to give hairstylists their due. They put up with squirming kids, complaining adults and people who ask for a haircut that will make them look like Brad Pitt. ("Sir, I am a beautician, not a magician.")
Hairstylists also have some of the most annoying, irresponsible, inconsiderate and worst-dressed co-workers on the planet. I don't actually know who the co-workers are, but they are the topic of conversation each time I get a trim.
"Do you know that she was late again for work yesterday?" one barber/stylist/hair-quality technician will say to the other. "And once again, she didn't clean up her station."
Sometimes it makes them so mad that they just want to scream, or in my case, pull on my hair harder as they cut it. I guess that's another reason I feel their pain.
Despite everything they go through, hairstylists don't even get their own week. In fact, they don't even get their own day. Hairstylists share April 30 with National Honesty Day. That's a strange combination, considering most men – at least the smart ones – are never honest with their wives when asked, "Do you like my new haircut?"
Anyway, here is my tribute to hairstylists, who teach us all about hair care, and also that "babely" and "hunky" are actual words. (We've all been forced to read one of those teen magazines while we wait, right?):
I walk into the waiting room,
put my name onto the list,
"How long is the wait?" I ask,
"Just 10 minutes," you insist.
A moment later it's my turn,
I barely even had to sit,
"How would you like your hair done?"
"Please make me look like Brad Pitt."
You get right to work,
a trim here, a clip there,
and I know in just minutes,
I'll be out of that chair.
So remember you're appreciated,
that's what this column is about,
and I'll always sing your praises,
or at least 'til my hair falls out.
Next time: Another unrecognized holiday earns poetic justice, assuming I can find something that rhymes with Hairball Awareness.
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