Regardless, I’ve managed to get my hair done by a guy named Josef that Nick’s friend Charlotte recommended. Apparently he does hair for all the fashion shows in Vienna (they hold fashion shows in Vienna? Who knew).
All I really wanted was to just get it straightened, but I walked in to find myself greeted by a reed thin man who took my hands gently when I said I just wanted my hair straightened and said:
“Darling, is this your first ball in Vienna?”
“Why yes.” I replied
“Darling, you’re going to the Techniker Cercle tonight, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Darling, you want me to put your hair up. Trust me, you’ll feel much better if I do.”
“But . . .”
“No darling, trust me. If you don’t like it, I’ll take it down and straighten it for you.”
“Well. . . ok, I guess.”“Darling, I’m very good at this. I shall make a sculpture of your hair!”
And he did. It’s very sculptural. Almost like stone there’s so much hairspray in there. I don’t think it would move right now even if I stood next to a tornado. Thank god it looks nice, I don’t think I have enough time to wash out all of the hair product before the ball . . . Speaking of which, I hope this migraine gives up the ghost before tonight. I’d hate to feel like this all night long.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment