Wunderlust?

Yesterday, I had to finally say it out loud and confess, "I am a salon snob". If there is a 'four - step' process for salon addicts, sign me up. I kept denying it; frequently only admitting to a few wants, a 'smidgen' of needs. Do I ask for too much? A pleasant greeting, a well coiffed stylist, surroundings void of mold or mildew.

Since moving to my new town, I've had a challenge on my hands. I feel like the "fairy of good will" has turned out to be the "Goodwill fairy". My choices have been lacking and now I don't trust myself in all I do. I recall the wonder years of living in Seattle, San Diego or Las Vegas. Salons filled with beautiful people; skinny bitches, and hot gay men alike. My ultimate favorite was "7" in Seattle, with it's pounding live dj, spinning tunes so loud you couldn't think straight. Give it up for their espresso bar offerings or Egyptian cotton robes. Any salon that serves a glass of bubbly is top notch in my book. How about a huge wall - mounted plasma telly? It would be running continuously the newest trends in hair styles and fashion in lieu of staring off into dead space, trying to not gawk at the people around you. I ask you, is this too much to ask for?

Log of Recent Experiences, You Decide:

1. Sassy Seattle Shag (a' la - Sally Hershberger) shorn off into short, short layers. Combine those with Houston's high humidity & I resembled a wet Ellen DeGeneres - F-
2. Okay, must trust a new trendy looking establishment in a newly developed outdoor mall. $60. later, walked away with the Texan helmet head. Good scalp message & nice people pulled me through the trauma - C
3. Still wanting to stay local, let's go for a tried & true Aveda Salon. Hip decor, great Scottish woman greeting me. Experience told me Aveda Salon's offered their tried & fabulous Aveda signature tea, & scalp massage with aromatherapy; did I get offered either, oh no. Stylist held scissors in a funky new way, but soon realized it wasn't a new technique, but lack of control. Blow-out existed of waving the blow dryer over my face. It would of been great had it shrunk my wrinkles. The good news was she expressed that she also loved to give massages when not cutting hair (licensed, I think not), but didn't like to massage 'fat' people - F
4. Okay, now leaving the hood. This time drove "inside the loop" to a Houston fav - Rice Village. Suckered in by the salons good looks, funky name. Absolutely gorgeous salon owner greeted me with a smile (good). Stylist although sweet as blueberry pie, looked like she had just worked on her car. My simple cut spanned 2 hours, due to the high volume of calls she had to answer while cutting my hair. I don't deny a good woman multi-tasking, but come on. I easily embraced the fact that the stylists were all lined up in a row, no separate stations. Okay that's cool. That is until my scissor wielding stylist was cold cocked by her neighboring stylist. Once you entered the salon, it was more tired looking than my college student post finals. The cut was better & hey, they served Dr. Pepper. B-

What do you worship about your favorite salon(s)? Share your horror stories in order to make me feel better about myself!

{go forth & shop responsibly}
hug your favorite stylist