So---Maria and I went up to Seattle for our appointment with the stylist from Los Angeles which is one of the “perks” that our trip fee is going towards.
James couldn’t be with us, he is the drumline captain of the high school marching band and he was at a required performance.
On the drive up I was thinking that this would be another way to judge the quality of the program; will the presentation be “flaky” or real? And what would a "stylist" from Los Angeles be like anyway?? I've only seen them as characters in chick flicks, or briefly on TV's "
Project Runway" in the show's hair salon....It was a long drive; I had quite a bit of thinking time.
I was also feeling a bit nervous, a little insecure. It is not a comfortable thought knowing that you are going to stand in front of a “professional” and have them critique how you look. I don’t know how those reality show people can do it. I wore a dress; I wanted to look “nice”. Traffic was bad; we were almost ten minutes late. We parked, hurried through "beautiful downtown Macys"; waited for the elevator to arrive, took it to the 7th floor, rushed past the larger-than-life photos of Jackie K and Princess Grace and friends (all former JRP students), and strolled into the JRP offices trying to breath slowly and look calm.
Maria and I walked through the open door to the meeting room; all eyes turned towards us, and I was relieved to see that the guy standing there holding a clipboard was smiling at us. So far so good.
The room had mirrored walls like a dance studio and a nice wooden floor. There were two rows of metal chairs and parents with kids of all ages. Pretty sure my child (at age 26) is the oldest…. Okay, the corollary to that is, yes, pretty sure I am the oldest parent.
We arrived in the midst of introductory remarks. It turns out that the “guy with the clipboard” is a local Seattle stylist assisting the “L.A.” stylist who was delivering his energetic intro for this procedure.
I tried to remain clinical and neutral about his presentation, however, he was an interesting speaker and I felt a bit excited to be in this unusual situation. I was impressed by his obvious passion for what he does and his business-like manner. He was humorous, not arrogant, not “outrageous” in his mannerisms or dress--but he was direct. Referring to the preparation for the up-coming convention and auditions he told the youngsters: “You are not just a kid in the Mall anymore; you have to be serious about this. It’s going to be fun, but you will have to be disciplined.”
I liked that he told the kids that they were going to have to give up some “treats” or “extras” like the latest Wii game, in order to help budget for the cost of professional hair cuts/colors and styling. It implies this is a shared financial responsibility with the kids & their parent.
He will be the head of a team of stylists at the convention in Los Angeles. Our JRP group will have our hair styled and makeup done by these pros each day we are there and prior to each audition and performance. Okay, yeah, that brings out the 16-year-old in me—all my hair and make-up dilemmas turned over to pros. Nice.
He began calling names from his list. I panicked a little, not wanting to go first. When called up, the procedure was to stand in front of him, and “stand still”. Do not comment, or give explanations.
He directed, "Input is not required or solicited. I really don’t care what you think.”
His smile took the sting of his words away, but it was obvious to everyone that he was a professional. It was interesting to watch as each person stood before him. He walked in a slow circle around each student, feeling the texture and length of the hair, concentrating like an artist examining his easel. Then quickly he gave rapid-fire instructions to the assistant regarding inches to cut off, or color streaks to add, flipping through hair color samples, judging which would be best when the stage lights hit the hair. The "guy with the clipboard” took copious notes.
Maria and I were called up last. I “encouraged”
Maria to go first. What could he say about her hair anyway? It is a gorgeous, natural copper/gold/orange. I’ll admit that the hair cut could use some help--I’m the one that cut her hair last.
Her hair is fairly thick, and used to be waist length. It grows fast, so periodically she cuts and sends the hair lengths to
“Locks of Love” as a donation to wigs for cancer patients. A few months prior to this she had donated her hair, asking me to cut it off in measured 12” chunks. Now, her hair barely brushed her shoulders, and at that moment looked pretty uneven to my eye.
The stylist loved the hair color. He suggested a few “color slices” be added to the under layers to “give it some depth”. He held up a dark copper color swatch that was the identical color of the shadowed layers of her hair. I was relieved that he didn’t choose some drastic color. Maria would never have gone for the change anyway, but it was nice to avoid the tension.
Next, he flipped through a book and showed Maria the hair cut he chose for her. It was sleek, curved and just below the ears. She and I looked at each other; I was trying to read her eyes. I could see that her feelings weren’t neutral… and they also weren’t excited. It was a pretty cute hair cut, and yet, it wasn’t “Maria” at that point in her life. But, then again, maybe it would be a great change.
The other good thing about this stylist is he was not forceful. He told everyone that he was going to give his professional opinion and then it was up to each person to follow through or not, reminding us all to reflect on how serious we were about taking career advice from someone experienced in the entertainment industry.
So, lastly, my turn. I took a breath and stepped into the “decision spot”.
I was relieved that no critiquing of makeup techniques or “face structure” was going to be done. I know I look okay; it’s just intimidating to be scrutinized. My hair is pretty thin. It is a dark ash blonde with some lighter gold hair streaks added, and they are growing out. I have always been conscious of my high, broad forehead, so I generally have a few bangs as camouflage.
He showed me a color swatch proposed for my hair that was a deeper shade dark blonde, nearly brunette. I liked it. Then he showed me a photo of “my” proposed hair style, told me to grow my bangs out until December, and then have my hair cut.
I commented. “But my forehead…its so---"
“Don’t cut your bangs!” He glowered.
I closed my lips and stared back with insecurity.
Clipboard guy smiled, “Really, its going to look fine.”
The style in the photo was classy. It was shoulder length, a precise cut with long chin-length bangs curving around the face. The clipboard guy was happily writing down color numbers and hair length measurements.
A young woman sat in the corner scheduling hair appointments for everyone. We didn’t book an appointment, offering various plausible reasons, but I knew that the real reason was I needed some time to just think about the plan for a bit. And the cost. My color and cut will be about $200. Probably a typical price, but out of my “comfort level”.
It was not as awkward a session as I envisioned, even so, I felt very relieved to be heading back out to the parking garage. **We still need your help to get to the convention...and get the haircut :) Please click on our Donate link above, we need to turn in the funds by Nov. 25th**
As Long As Im Singing AndreaNov2009.wmv
