free stats Carmen's Web: Story of a curl, part II
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
Story of a curl, part II
I had an appointment at noon at Devachan and arrived at the salon at 11:30am (I told you, I lack patience). It was quite impressive and not as ostentatious as one would think a Soho salon would be. The one thing that differed between Devachan and my usual hair places were the curly haired women. I was surrounded by the most gorgeous curls! Everyone, from the stylists to the clients, had curls. I didn't hear one blowdryer, didn't see one stylist try to straighten someone's hair. I have never seen so much gorgeous hair in one place. Ever.

I met my stylist after being given a golden silk gown to wear. He welcomed me on my first visit and asked me exactly what I wanted.

One of the biggest problems I've had in life is that I've never known exactly what I want. When I DO know, I'm almost militant about it. I've always been much, much better at recognizing and identifying the things that I don't want and start to work my way through there. With regards to my hair I knew that I wanted to keep it long, but I needed it to behave and have some kind of style; not just rest like a mop on my head.

I tell my stylist this and he starts cutting my hair while it's still dry according to Devachan policy, which I think is great. At least that way you can see what your curly hair will look like.

He's snipping. And snipping. And snipping. And before I know it, he's snipped my back. I keep my mouth shut. He must know what he's doing, I think. I mean, he PROMISED not to cut my back. Snips later I stare at myself in the mirror CURSING the fact that the hair I've been trying to grow out is now the same length it was back in September. I decided to hold any complaints until I saw the final product. After all, I can't really do anything about this now.

The next step was actually washing my hair and I can say without exaggeration that it was nearly orgasmic. The shampoo chairs were more like beds. You lay flat on your back on a reclining leather chair surrounded by a white mosquito net, your hair flowing into the sink. The assistants go beyond the usual nice salon shampoo experience and you get a full-on neck and shoulder massage. The aroma of the conditioner, the fingers massaging my scalp...all worked together to completely dull all of my bad senses and enhance all the wonderfully good ones.

I was led back to my stylist with dripping wet hair, gelled up, and put under a hi-tech air dryer. It only released subtle heat to get my hair to dry quicker. It took about twenty minutes and when it was all done I can honestly admit that I had never seen my curls look better. It was the most amazing thing in my life. I couldn't imagine that they'd be so bouncy, frizz-free, and just...pretty! My curls were INCREDIBLE.

The whole 'do, on the other hand, wasn't the greatest. I mean, it's fine. It's just much shorter than I wished it would it be. I tell you this though...once my hair grows out it'll look amazing.

("Why is this woman writing about a haircut?" you ask. Well, if you don't have curly hair, you'll never understand. If you DO have curly hair, I know you wouldn't even ask that question. (for my curly haired peeps...I will write, in another post, how you can get curlalicious hair using the Devachan method).

All in all, I left Devachan $175 poorer, but feel like I've discovered a long kept NY secret. I'm ready to join the cult.
Thoughts shared by Carmen at 10:48 PM
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Who: Carmen

xx-something egyptia-yorker who's spent over half her life stuck in two worlds not of her own making. unable and unwilling to fully embrace one identity over the other, she created (is trying to create) her own place in the world where people love each other unconditionally, irrespective of artificial boundaries, and where dancing merengue is as necessary to life as breathing air.

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