I can never book a hair cut more than three days ahead of time.

Deciding to cut my hair happens on a whim, an impulsive moment usually following the kind of bad hair day that ends in browsing Facebook to poke fun at your most unfortunate-looking friends and/or a tub of Ben and Jerry's.

So when I do decide to cut my hair, I need to do it fast, like ripping a plaster off, before past hurts creep into my conscious and change my mind.

Like every woman, I've had my share of tragedies at the hands of a hairdresser.

But it all starts with those first few snips, standing in the kitchen, with your eyes squeezed tightly closed, and your mother weilding a pair of sewing scissors, skimming your forehead as she fits you out with an edgy asymmetrical fringe far ahead of its time.

Sure, she took payment in cuddles, so you couldn't ask too much from her workmanship, but as a young woman will soon realize; no matter the amount of money sacrificed to these hairspraying harlots, there is never a guarantee against the pain suffered from a bad haircut at their scissor-hands.

And boy, have I felt the pain.

There was the much-hyped French stylist who insisted we 'let the hair show us where it wants to be cut'. My hair wanted to be a mullet that day.

Then there was the junior 'colour consultant' that thought inch-wide bleached highlights complemented by bronze undertones was 'totally now'. And when I pulled my hair into a ponytail, the strip of blinding blonde down the middle of my head showed just how totally 2001 it was.

And of course there was the founding stylist from the hottest salon in town, who superseded my request for long layers and, and hooked me up with a short '20s style bob so I could model for their next hairdressing competition...but it seemed the cut didn't work out quite like she'd hoped.

Then there were the times that I tried to take matters into my own hands, hacking violently at my hair in the half light of my bedroom, bagging up my discarded strands for the trash, laughing maniacally at having seemingly beat the system. I lost a lot of good housemates that way.

It's enough to bring a girl to tears. And it has, many times.

The most trivial of concerns, my hair, and it's sudden augmentation, specifically, has had me sobbing, cowering in the shower, massaging $30 restructuring conditioner into my scalp, willing my hair to miraculously grow back so I can undo my most horrific mistake, and also, if it works, so I can sell the story to Modern Salon Magazine.

The usual story; I had been having stirrings of discontent wtih my hair, my bangs growing out at an alarming rate, the layers weaving into one big mop, the ends drying out like an overcooked chicken.

I saw a salon as I walked down the street two days ago, and that was it. Haircut time. I booked an appointment for the next day on the spot.

And so, yesterday, I found myself sitting in the waiting area, sweat beads sparkling on my upper lip, hands winding through my strands one more time, to calm myself, and them - they've been to the hairdresser before. They know what happens in here. They've seen too many of their comrades fall, forgotten in places like this.

My stylist led me to her station, a comforting hand on my shoulder, and as I took my seat, I confessed my nerves.

"Don't worry," she laughed, "it'll be fine, I'll be gentle."

"Are you ready?" She asked, scissors firm in her claw, as they grazed across my forehead asymetrically.

F*ck.

Stop Being Crap: There's no use crying over split ends

You're not stuck with your mum chopping your hair anymore. You're a grown woman, you have a choice, and you deserve to be happy with your style every time you go under the scissors.

It's time to take control of the situation - not just anyone's getting a hold of my hair anymore.

The price is wrong, bitches

As we've previously discussed, an expensive stylist doesn't mean a good stylist.

Sometimes an expensive stylist is one with the skills, experience and talent to justify their inflated cost. And sometimes they're just a low-rate stylist with an over-inflated ego. 

I'm starting to see where I've gone wrong in the past.

I either try and go cheap to save money for other important things (like food), and get a shitty haircut, or, I splash the cash and end up with a shitty haircut. But that second one hurts a little more.

The middle of the road. That's where you want to be. You don't go for someone brand new at the craft, because they'll most likely screw it up, and you don't go for the pricey guy that'll exercise his artistic license on your mop.

You go for the girl that's been doing it for a few years, but asks for mid-range prices. She's eager to please, and very careful - she wants another success under her belt to build her confidence, so, she'll do her best to make sure you leave happy. No crazy-ass-shaved-head-bowl-cut-pink-streaks-feather-mullet styles here - just a good haircut.

Breakthrough.

Are you picking up what I'm putting down?

This time 'round, I explained how to cut my hair like you'd describe how to perform brain surgery to a six year-old in scrubs for their debut behind the scalpel.

It was detailed, y'all.

No clippings of celebrity 'dos, or mention of specific styles (bob, pob, and the like), just elaborate descriptions of each problem area the fixes involved, and a three page Power Point presentation on how my fringe should 'fall'...

Dry ends, messy layers, lack of shape around the face, overhanging bangs. I just asked her plain and simple what I wanted, she added her thoughts, and if I didn't agree, I said so. I stuck to my guns.

You're paying for their expertise, and they can give you advice about what you should do with your hair, but at the end of the day, it's your money, you're the customer, and you should walk out of the salon with what you wanted.

I did, she did, that's right, I am, and I did.

Win!

Quick Tip: By cutting the majority of your hair when it's dry, the length they're cutting at is the length the finished product will be. Wet layers and ends have a habit of 'jumping up' shorter when it's too late. They may need to cut the very ends wet, but asking for them to dry everything off before they get into the layers and bangs will eliminate nasty surprises during the final blow dry.