I got my haircut yesterday and with it came an epiphany.

I’ve never liked spending money on haircuts. To be really honest, I’ve never liked spending money on anything other than books, shoes or plane tickets; but haircuts have always been up there for me in the “you’re going to have to pry this money from my hands” category.
For the most part, I’ve always been a Head & Shoulders, “haircut once a year” kind of girl. The only exceptions are when I’ve cut my hair short, short short, which I’ve done a handful of times. But looking back, I’m pretty sure it was just my way of stretching “once a year” into 18 months.
But yesterday, everything changed. And I’m going to tell you why I now think spending $100, or even $200, on the right hairstylist is a complete no brainer.

First, I want you to note how I used the word “hairstylist” and not “haircut”. If you’re spending $200 on a haircut, I’m still going to think it’s ridiculous. And that’s because only a hairstylist, the right hairstylist, will know that what this is really all about is ritual -Goddess ritual.

Think about it.

First of all, you walk in and you’re given a cape and asked to sit on a throne. If that isn’t the first sign, I don’t know what is.

Secondly, your hair is washed which is important, but not as important as the fact that what your hairstylist is actually doing is stimulating your crown chakra. That’s why you need the right stylist because in essence, they’re cracking you open so you’re ready to access the divine.
Ever wonder why your stylist is the keeper (hopefully) of all your secrets? Ever been curious about how willing you are to chat with them like you are with no other? It’s because, hello, Steel Magnolia, your whole head is being lifted right off. When the crown chakra is stimulated it puts us in touch with our imagination and what we see as our greatest potential. I don’t know about you, but if my hairstylist is helping me access my greatest potential, I’m going to be choosy about who’s doing the job!

Third, once they’ve helped you establish a connection to the divine, your hairstylist cuts off the parts of you, that you don’t want any more: the dead, the no longer serving, the dry, the split, the cracked, the remnants of last week, last month (or in my case, last year), that are doing nothing but weighing you down. It’s like you’re a snake sloughing off skin, destroying and recreating, only you don’t have to do the work because you’re hairstylist is so in tune with the baggage you need to get rid off (see point number two) that she’s able to make the cut for you.
“This? This is dead and should be gone. You’re much better off without it, honey.”

It’s sacrifice – ritual sacrifice, plain and simple.

Then (this has never happened until this appointment, but I’m going to request it every time going forward) you’re baptized.

My hairstylist did an additional rinse this morning. A rinse after the cutting. She had me lay back in the chair, and as it gently reclined she cradled the back of my neck until it met the rounded edge of the sink. Her hand then moved gracefully towards the water spout and she waited until the water was slightly warm before cupping it, one hand at a time, onto my forehead before guiding it backwards. I could have sworn this part happened in slow motion. Warm water lapping slowly against some imaginary lakeshore on my forehead. The sound of hands moving rhythmically, methodically through water. And although I didn’t actually hear her utter a prayer or give a blessing, I’m pretty sure someone did.

Then comes the blowing and styling. The primping, the preening, the beautification. And that part didn’t seem as important, until I realized that what they’re actually doing is framing you. Literally, your hairstylist is creating a frame for how you’ll see the world and how the world will see you. Kind of important, right?

Lastly, the final act, the close of the ritual. The part where they stand behind you like they’re a loyal subject in your Queendom, like they have your back no matter what. And it’s from that stance that they hand you a mirror and ask you to look at yourself. There are not a lot of people who will really, honestly, ask you to do that, but your hairstylist will, bless his or her soul.

Most will hand you the mirror and say something like: “Nice, right?” But the good ones? The good ones will say something bigger, something deeper about what’s just happened. This morning, my hairdresser locked eyes with me and said, “Mmmmph. You are a gorgeous thing.” And I know she wasn’t talking about my hair, or her artistry. I know she was talking about my soul, the one she’d seen and been playing with for the last hour.

So go for the cut but be open to the ritual, and believe me when I tell you that the latter, that’s what’s worth the big bucks.