“She would be half a planet away, floating in a turquoise sea, dancing by moonlight to flamenco guitar.”
Mmm, hm, do I ever know what that color feels like.
I have a long standing love affair with the beauty business.
I spent time in oh, 400+ salons over the course of 10 years and learned my "brain of the artist" mind reading skills spending a bajillion planetary seconds with hairdressers.
So you'd think when it's my turn to sit in the salon chair I'd come prepared with photos and a plan and a story of exactly what I'm feeling.
Instead I pick the hairdresser that can look at me, what I'm wearing, what I'm seeing (insta helps with that), and what I'm listening to and create my color story from there.
I also believe in life colors. You know, your color aura.
(I could get way more into that, diff convo / diff day.)
So back to the salon.
When I lived in Atlanta I had a colorist that was out of this world brilliant.
I mean, I have a Vogue collection, this woman had the same collection but in 5 different languages.
So, if I showed up wearing some sort of neon pump and picked up Japanese Vogue, her mind would go to vibrant shades of yellows and hot pink and she'd create a Harajuku infused masterpiece. On. my. head.
On the contrary, in the summer - if I had a little tan and was working neutrals and a boho maxi she'd pull out a seashell she'd been saving and recreate the effect of the color gradation. On. my. head. WTF. For real.
Now, in New Orleans I'm the luckiest haircolor girl in the world to have found Greg Pike. I'll send him photos in advance on occasion, but ultimately I show up, we have a quick discussion, which usually ends with me saying "go for it" and we're off.
Saturday I went to see him and he already had a plan. (Good thing because I stumbled in with a hangover wearing my UGG boots, a sweatshirt that could double as a dress and an oversized New Orleans Pelican's cap). And interesting (although not surprisingly) everything in my current color story translated into the coolest pastel tones and vibrant shades. On. my. head.
So here we have it: my current color game and a few shots of the end result below.
Tell him I sent ya.
opening quote from "White Oleander"