The Bee's Knees

I recently experienced a revelation. For those of you who know me personally, you're probably aware of how annoyingly obsessed I can be with my hair. For those of you who don't, clearly, I'm a real treat. I have, at times long, always thick, somewhat unruly, naturally curly, red hair. The color is irrelevant but helps to paint a picture of what I'm working with. I'm not an "every eight weeks" kind of girl, more of a "I'll let this grow out and wear it in a ponytail or flatiron it until the ends break off and I can't take it any more and then hope that this time I'll get the most incredible haircut of my life" girl. I've gotten many haircuts in the last 10 years and unfortunately, few have impressed. There was the mullet and bowl cut freshman year of college, the three cuts to get a bob the summer before senior year, and the omnipresent one side at least two inches shorter than the other. In between, there was a lot of razoring and thinning that resulted in tufts of inch long pieces growing out of the top of my head so that I thought my hair was breaking and I was going bald. There were an embarrassing number of professional hair stylists who told me that one could not blow dry my hair straight. And there was the guy in my college town who I kept going back to like a masochist even though he let me flatiron my own hair because "she just does it better than me!" (Than I, buddy). I guess I'm somewhat to blame. I never complained to the stylist after a bad haircut, never sought out a new salon after disappointment after disappointment, and I even started to think that I was the problem, or rather, that my hair was. However, amongst all of these hair raising incidents, I have experienced a few shining moments. The guy in Portland who pointed out the errors of thinning shears and gave me a great curly girl cut, my first blowout in New York that turned out beautifully and proved so many stylists wrong, and most recently, the total package that I received at The Beehive in Boise.

I'll be the first to admit that I wasn't sure I would find the greatest haircut in the City of Trees. I'd experienced plenty of stylists in Marin,  Eugene, and New York who had left a lot to be desired, and I couldn't really see Boise as the city that would change my mind. My biggest issue, aside from all of the catastrophes that I just described, is that no stylist had ever done just what I wanted. I've seen amazing hair styles on girls with hair like mine, yet I've never been able to communicate to get the results. Right before I moved from New York, I had paid a visit to my regular girl for a summer cut - light, healthy, and shorter. What I had lost was 7-inches and what I received were the longest layers I'd ever seen. I felt like half my hair was gone without gaining any movement, shape, or modernity. Needless to say, I was not pleased. So when I got settled in Boise, I asked Jeff's sister for a salon recommendation, and she pointed me to The Beehive. I showed up to smiling faces, sat down in Amber's chair, and while receiving a neck and shoulder massage, used what I hoped was the most effective salon vocabulary to ask for a fun cut, without losing much length but adding lots of layers, less dense and easier to manage. I was determined to leave the salon with a haircut that I liked, so throughout the appointment, I kept watching and asking. Amber even blew out my hair and then let me feel through it and request more layers where I needed them. Can you imagine my surprise and pleasure when I got exactly what I asked for? Curly, the layers give my hair shape so that it springs around my head instead of forming the outdated T-shape with weight only at the bottom. Straight, it swings around my shoulders, full of complexity, and appears longer despite Amber cutting off another inch. I finally got just what I wanted, and can't wait to see what else she can do. I recommend this salon to Boise residents and those passing through, and for all of you out there who have yet to experience your perfect cut, speak up. I'm sure that had I kept my mouth shut, Amber would have given me a great style, but it may not have been what I envisioned. Instead, by sharing my last haircut with her, complaints and all, and every detail of my wants, I walked away with a smile.