The Dominicana Experience

Growing up in Miami, the rave was always the black hair dressers. In Miami, the black people did hair the best. Women would sacrifice 10 hours out of their day to sit up in a busy hair salon on a Saturday afternoon. Once I moved to NYC, the rant and raves were strictly about the Dominican hair salons in Washington Heights. Let me start out by saying I don't let ANYONE touch my hair. My mom usually relaxes it and I go from there. But I was treating my mom, and I needed a trim so I said what the hell. I googled some salons because I wasn't quite sure where to go. I found a review on Kity Bradshaw's blog. She described her experience there very clear and to the point...So I decided to give it a try. This particular salon wasn't exactly in Washington Heights..but shiitt, that was fine by me! After taking FOREVER IN A DAY to do a wash and set, and sitting under the dryer for 50 million years, they FINALLY took the rollers out and I was like OH MM GEE, I look like Patty Mae Jackson! The beauticians barely spoke English, so I figured the language barrier was a problem as well. They put me in the chair, blew my hair out and I was like NO NO NO NO NO!!! After cutting a few inches off to give me that layer effect, I looked in the mirror and wanted to cry. I came in a 21 year old, and left looking like I was 40. This is the reason why I don't go to hair salons. My hair is thickier then Nicki Minaj's thighs. My hair needs to be flat ironed. NOT blow dryed. Granted, it was bouncy and it fells softer then a baby's bottom, I'm just not feeling this puffyness. And my bangs!! EVERYONE knows that I HATE curled up bangs. What the hell am I? 6 years old again? I wrapped my hair when I came home last night, which hopefully would flatten it a little! So lets see how it looks when I take the scarf off. But for the future, I will ONLY go to the hair dresser when I need a trim. Salon a La Lala is the ONLY place I'm letting fuck with my hair!