Scissors

If I could give this zero stars I would. This salon, or at least the dour faced woman that butchered my hair, does not deserve to be given the title hairdresser.
I popped in on a Monday, when, as mostly women will know, most salons are closed. My usual, Partikular, just along the street, was fully booked, and I desperately needed a trim. Now, it isn’t the fanciest, or most presentable front façade, but I assumed they would actually be skilled professionals. Alarm bells started ringing when I was sat at a dirty, untidy station, and had a hair riddled gown thrown on me. THIS is the point when I should have got up and walked. Instead, out of sheer shock and disbelief, I had my hair pulled out of it’s hairspray sodden ponytail, combed roughly, then chopped in to. Even if you’re not a trained hairdresser (I am) most if you will know that you DO NOT cut hair dry, you comb it out, and part it properly. Five minutes of random chopping and she had the audacity to expect payment. I handed it over, left, and made my way home with my jaw scraping the pavement in disbelief.
The butchery wasn’t as apparent till my friend came to tidy it up last night, and I was made aware of the mess it was left it. Uneven length throughout the entire head, and she was unable to cut it to the desired style, as it would involve me losing a great deal of length.
Do not be tempted to pop in for a quick trim. They are a joke.