ROXIE REWINDS ✨
Because some stories are just too good not to tell again.
Originally published: March 16, 2013
Then vs. now: Still true… and Sassy is STILL a legend.
Some things in life are sacred: your best friend, your therapist… and your hairdresser.
Nothing rejuvenates me as much as a trip to see my hairdresser. Well, nothing besides a good massage or a mani-pedi, but it ranks right up there. I mean, who hasn’t seen Steel Magnolias and NOT thought of their own hairdresser? Mine is AWE.SOME. She’s not all Truvy-ish with huge hair and a twangy Southern accent, but she’s just as sweet, with a bunch of sass thrown in for good measure. In fact, she’s got so much sass I’ma call her Sassy. Sassy is a hot mess with a heart of gold. She owns her own shop and makes her own rules. I walked through the door one day about six years ago looking for a new hairdresser—and also found a friend.
Sassy knows everything about me. At this point, she knows more than my therapist. Luckily for me, she’s not easy to scare off. But I love hearing about what’s going on with her, too. She’s always got some crazy story for me about boyfriends, work, ex-husbands, jail, kids—you name it. It’s because of her I don’t ever want to go to jail. Mostly because of what she told me she had to eat in there. Stinky bologna on soggy bread just won’t cut it. I’ll walk the straight and narrow to keep myself from killing anyone just to avoid it. Shiver. And don’t get the wrong impression—she was only there for two days, and she’s really a sweet person, so let’s just chalk that one up to some bad decisions. And bacon.
Anyway, today was my appointment, and I was looking forward to some fun girl time and a lot of catching up. Sassy runs a small shop, but they keep pretty busy, and there’s always people coming and going. Today she had me all done up in foils for a highlight and then set me under the dryer to cook it in. If you’ve ever had your hair highlighted or foiled, you’ll know that you don’t look quite right while you’re processing. Tin foil shingles sprout out of your head, making the rest of your hair stand on end. I’m not sure what exactly it looks like, but it’s nobody’s best look. Trust me.
The door opens. A family walks in. One of the kids makes a beeline for the play area in the back—until he sees me. He skids to a stop. And just stares. I shrink down in my chair and hunch my shoulders up all shrinky-like and try not to make eye contact. He just STOOD there. Staring. His mother called him back up to the front, and he kept looking over his shoulder at me like he’d just seen the invisible man or something. I wanted to jump out of the chair and lunge at him, flapping my arms in the big black cape, screaming, “BOOLA-BOOLA-BOOLA,” and chase his a$$ out the door. But I didn’t.
My Aunt Norma once told me that it hurts to be beautiful, and she wasn’t kidding! It’s not only physically painful sometimes (think waxing), but it can also hurt your ego, apparently. The end result is always worth it… unless, of course, you decide to do it yourself. Patty and I decided (ONCE) that we would save ourselves some money and highlight each other’s hair. Let me tell you right now that NO amount of savings was worth THAT. I’ll spare you the details, but by the time we were done, Patty’s hair looked EXACTLY THE SAME and I looked like Tony the Tiger. Sassy had to fix that, too.
Listen up, people… there is a REASON they are hairdressers. It’s because they learned how to do it, and it wasn’t off the side of a box. Patty and I said the two words that have somehow become our mantra: Never Again. It ranks right up there with, “What were we THINKING?”
So give me Sassy and her lil salon any day. The day before I took a trip to Las Vegas, she was doing my hair and brought me out a Lime-a-Rita to sip on to get me in the Vegas mood. (“You’ve got to start building your tolerance, honey.”) She’s great. Even when she may be having a crappy day, Sassy manages to laugh about it—she gets the big picture. We talk about our kids, catch up on gossip, and laugh our heads off the whole time I’m there. Other than looking like a creature from outer space for a while, it’s nothing but a good time. Plus, when I’m done, I look fabulous. At least that’s what Sassy tells me. And who am I to argue?
Another story tucked safely back in the nest.
Thanks for reading ~ Roxie 💙
Roxie Rides Again 