I wanted a makeover...I wanted to look different...The ventriloquist in me started blaming me for not doing anything about it...
Finally, I decided...I am gonna do it...So there I went with my colleague to the poshest and the priciest salon in town to transform to a cinderella..or thumbelina or whatever they call you...
I was excited to go..But the moment I entered.. my enthusisam was drained out like the air in a deflated balloon...The stylists looked like they have come from another planet....Funky hairstyles and all the more funky names.And I swear on my hair that they are paid to be smartly mean. Ofcourse, they behave nicely to you. But at the same time makes you feel ashamed that you dont belong to their clan atleast for the time that you are in their heavenly abode.
To be fair and square, they gave me a cool head massage. And well, did a supposedly stylish haircut. Then she scared me by asking whether I like her haircut. Well, I liked it. But only difference was she had long hair cut intermediately with funky colors and she looked like a gypsy girl coverpage of Vogue. Since I didnt know what to answer, I just screamed a NOOOO...and I guess she got the message. Then she adopted silence to continue with our elaborate hair cut ritual.She scrunged it, twisted it, curled it, blowdried and ofcourse did some cutting here and there. But by the end of it, I dont know whethr I looked any different.
So finally I had it...My new madeover form....with the realization that to look different I have to feel different.
Ofcourse, I shopped like a maniac in the evening to suit my new form. And I am broke.:)
