I can see the appeal in letting your toddler be your head decorator, your cleaning crew, and your accountant. It saves a lot of time, a whole lot of money, and people will compliment you on how smart and savvy you are.... wait... that doesn't sound right...
Imagine finger painting on giant canvases on the walls, clumps of hair from Christmas in the corners (this is May, btw), poor lighting that offsets any color you receive, and the Real Housewives of Barboursville rejects shooting you dirty looks each time you dare to utter words more damning than "Gosh Darn". Oh and let's not forget Tawny Kitaen, the later years, "working" the front desk. God forbid she need to get off her butt and tell your stylist you've arrived. And don't bother asking for a glass of water, like most salons provide; that will get you a reply so drenched in malice you'll wish the low lying sofa you're stuck to in the reception area would just absorb you whole.
Why did I ever dare step foot here a second time you ask? My stylist kicked ass. Like major, she needs to be living in NYC and telling other people how hair's done, kick ass. So I would step foot into a porta potty if she asked me to. (Clearly this review is in no reflection on my stylist's performance.) I have since moved on, as has she, so let me make a suggestion to anyone looking for quality hair, at a QUALITY salon: Mirror Mirror or Runway Salon.
Hope that "karma" is working well for you, Karma ladies! read more