I love a pun. Even an old and stale one.
I’m sitting in a chair getting my bangs trimmed at my local Floyd’s Barber Shop on Wednesday, when my stylist mentions that the staff there is trying to get a RAB car show together. “Cool,” says I. “What are the details?” Well, they’re trying for a weekend at the end of August. “Great! I’ll be there.” Then she asks, would I like to model?
Let me think about that.
Professionally-done RAB hairdo, for FREE.
Tough call, right?
The next step is, apparently, to ask the lead coloring tech if they’re still planning on having hair models. He sure hopes so. Takes a quick glance at my hair. Is it okay if they color it?
Okay, I know there are gals who are all “Ohmigod don’t mess up my highlights!!!” but I am not one of them. I usually color mine myself, and my technique is sloppy. You want to color it with your mad skillz? Go right ahead.
Does it have to stay the same colors?
Oh, wow. I hadn’t for a moment thought that they’d keep it the same. No, no, have a ball with it. Do whatever you feel works. It’s been assorted combinations of black, brown, blond, blonder, and road hazard orange, all in the last 18 months. You do your thing, darling. I’ll just sit there, smiling. And deep-conditioning it for the next six months.
So, I still have no real info while they try to put this shindig together, and the whole thing might fall through. But it’s fun to dream. :)