Every Day's a Bad Hair Day

Everybody does it. No, not that. Nearly every-one on campus, with the exception of a few longhaired hippie wanna-bes, has a haircut now and then. Around the Square and in Boston, both men and women flock to the meccas of style in search of that sexy shag or dope ducktail--though men seemed less likely to 'fess up to their vanity.

But not all haircuts are created equal. Debbie E. Yeh '98 had been warned about the dangers of Cambridge haircuts. She paid the price for her failure to heed the warning signals. She explains, "When I first went to college, the person that normally cut my hair said I should get it cut short [before I left] to avoid the chop-shops." Yeh refused to listen. Tragedy struck when, during her sophomore year, she got her hair cut at a to-remain-nameless institution in the Square. "It only looked right if I held my head at a 20-degree angle," she laughs. "There were two inches off one side and three inches off the other." Yeh didn't notice the disparity until after she left the salon. "It helps to pay attention while they're snipping away," she advises. "But I went back and had the guy rectify the situation. It's not like I have complicated hair. I wasn't going for the latest 'Friends' cut."

The "Friends" cut, though, has been a source of many traumas. Justine Yang '98 recalls how a chic Newbury Street salon sheared her luscious locks. "Sophomore year, when the Jennifer Aniston cut was popular, I got my hair cut like that," she confesses. "I looked like a boy. I almost cried. My aunt said I looked like a weed." Eventually, though, her roommate Lana Lee '98 suggested that they go to Leonard Stephen in the Square. "Now I'm happy," Yang says of her layered bob. "I get it cut like every 6 weeks. I like my hair to be nice and sharp."

Lee herself is a die-hard haircut connoisseur, shopping around from salon to salon. "I get really bored with my hair," she admits, "and I haven't been able to find a place I really love." Her hit list includes the somewhat posh Diego, Leonard Stephen and several on Newbury Street. Currently, her fave is BU-frequented Dellaria on Commonwealth Avenue. Despite all her experimentation, all of Lee's cuts have met with her satisfaction. "I really haven't had a bad experience," she explains, even though she normally gives the stylist free rein with her shoulder-length hair.

Budget trims--a la Great Cuts--obviously carry inherent risks. Jessica Y. Yin '01 asked her budget stylist to trim the ends straight and cut some bangs--a seemingly simple request. Instead, she was left with hair layered on the ends and bangs that gently sloped upward and then back down again like an arc across her face. "[My roommate] Sarah volunteered to fix it," Yin grumbles. "She abruptly cut the left side. The right side still slopes." Yin, though, took the whole incident in stride. Remember: don't worry, it'll grow out.

Indeed, some of the more traumatizing hair-cuts are of the do-it-yourself-genre, and provide strong evidence that however much you love your roommates, never, ever let them cut your hair. Recently, Yin's roommate Sarah E. Kennedy '01 put her hair in her roommates' hands, trusting novice cutters with her coiffure, and met with near-tragic results. What began as a routine hair-cut soon went disastrously awry with the creation of a 3-inch long "ridge" near the nape of her neck. Her already-short hair now had a conspicuously short layer in back. What caused the Ridge? Yin explains that "we didn't have the proper implements. We had a large pair of desk scissors that are for cutting paper." Yin--who had no prior haircutting experience--deferred to their other roommate who apparently "sauntered up and said 'This is how you do it,' giving no indication that she hadn't ever cut before. Then, she proceeded to create the Ridge."

Yin then took evasive action. "I tried to remedy the Ridge," she claims, "but it was too deep." As Yin gives her explanation, she reaches into her desk drawer and brandishes a large pair of scissors--though not the same instrument of evil that created the Ridge. "Sarah," she says nonchalantly, "you have a weird long hair." Kennedy feels for the rogue strand, and then Yin reaches over to cut it. The cycle continues.