Girl, Get Your Roots Done

Me after getting sassy at CRISTOPHE in Beverly Hills. See, it’s good because it’s French. Or wait, Cristophe is actually Belgian.

Whatever, it’s Eurofancy.

I am spending 75% of the time with the Hot Urologist in his newly adopted city of NashVegas! And it is a wonderfully exciting place. However, there are distinct perils of attempting to set up shop in a new city. And I mean way beyond unpacking and deciding what drawer should house the spatula. You have to reorient completely. I am a veteran of condo life in NYC and LA and when something falls apart you only need ring downstairs for the cavalry. Not so in your own house. When the AC goes out in your free standing home, you must teeter on the verge of death by heat stroke until a repair person can pencil you in not today.

It’s currently 96 degrees upstairs but the only thing I care about is finding a hair salon. I am happy to sweat to death, but I’m not gonna have gray roots. I am not an animal. So in addition to clocking the distance between new home and the nearest Whole Foods, I am searching for a proper colorist stat.

As I undertake this arduous quest, I have learned something rather immediately. Simply put,

what you name your salon matters.

I googled, I yelped, I asked friends. The list of suggestions was lengthy, the names of the salons ridiculous. Do you feel good about Hair Kitchen? I do not. How about Pink Mullet? Yikes. And no to Hair Mafia, The Hideout, or Local Honey. Are they doing hair in there or running a prostitution ring? Can’t be sure. I don’t want to be smock-draped and 5 minutes away from fabulous when they blast the door and call for “hands up.” And no one wants Tammy to be living a double life as a shampoo/call girl. Oh Tammy, no.

There was a salon in Montgomery, Alabama a thousand years ago called Hairport. Even to a 6 year old that sounded like crap. But people loved Hairport. It might still be around if it had had a better name.

The key to salon longevity is title. Even if you are running one sink out of the back door of a trailer, name that place something highbrow and semi-French. Give it some gravitas, serve some Pellegrino . Do you wanna go to Jo’Lynn’s Cut and Color or do you want to go to Jean Louis Phillipe El DeBarge?

I‘m an El DeBarge kind of gal.