Please God Don’t Ever Let a Woman Become President
In the 20 plus years that I have been in the work force there is one main problem, WOMEN.
I hate those women who get a little bit of power and then it’s time to ruin as many lives as they possibly can. Why?? Oh I don’t know maybe because you got picked on in school, or you’re ugly or childless or single!!! Maybe you just can’t stand to see employees happy!!! Our last supervisor was as I liked to call her “an evil cunt with no soul”. Her name was Bea. He body was shaped like a short square I know that’s not her fault but instead of wearing clothing that elongated her body she wore clothes that made her look more short and square. We named her sponge Bea square ass. Yeah I know not nice, but wait. There’s more.
Bea would never approve your time off. She liked to pick on people. She would stomp through the shop without speaking to anyone. Yell at employees in front of customers. She especially liked to pick on women with small children. That seems to be a favorite of female managers. Especially the ones who are childless. OHH you need to leave early to pick up your kids?? Sorry no!! Fuck you. The best was when she told one of my coworkers that Christmas was not a holiday. Yes, I’m serious.
That bitch eventually was fired and replaced with another asshole. One who only lasted about a year, part of witch she was on leave because she had a nervous breakdown because her boyfriend left her. Again, not kidding. You may wonder why such incompetent people keep being put in this position. When I find out I’ll let you know.
The person in charge after that did not want to work. So she didn’t and instead gave all her work to another. That other person now takes very good care of things. But now because of …you guessed it some woman we are again in dire straits. Why can’t people just leave well enough alone?? Why can’t managers stop trying to FIX what’s not broken??? Why do people have to be such FUCKING ASSHOLE MOTHERFUCKERS??????!!!!!!
Can you tell that I am a little bit upset??
I know you must be thinking “and that’s why you don’t want a woman to be president??” Well these stories are only a fraction of my experiences with woman in power. That said I will never vote for a presidential candidate who has a vagina. I just don’t trust pussy.
Saturday, June 15, 2013
Friday, April 19, 2013
Let's Give Them Something to Talk About
Give me one good reason why we can’t call people out for being assholes. I can’t think of any.
In my travels as a hairdresser I have had the chance to meet celebrities; some of them have been nice this story is not about them.
A few weeks ago one of my good friends (also a stylist) had the displeasure of styling a morning talk show host; let’s call her “Jackie”. When Jackie arrived she was greeted by my friend Mary with a pleasant “Hello”. “I hope you have good shampoo here!” was the response she received. Mary works in a high end salon, only a complete idiot would ask suck a stupid fucking question. Let’s continue. Jackie had her head down the whole time obviously unhappy that she didn’t have a stich of makeup on. Even a chimpanzee could master putting on some mascara and some lip gloss. Maybe after being on a show for years you can’t put on your own make up any more, who knows. During the hell that was this appointment Jackie did nothing but let Mary know how unhappy she was until thankfully the service was complete and Jackie left. Mary’s salon does not allow workers to discuss celebrities, if you could even call “Jackie” that. This is why I am writing now.
As it turns out I also meet Jackie, years ago when I worked in the city. She and one of her hosts were in the New York salon that I worked in. I approached them shaking like a leaf, I introduced myself said hello and told them I loved the show. Jackie was on the phone and waved me off as if I was a gnat. Her co-host just glared at me and said “do you work here?” That should have been obvious since I was wearing a company uniform.
We are stylists, nail technicians, service providers, not pieces of shit. Why shouldn’t we shout from the rooftops about mean nasty non-tipping celebrities?? They need us, right??!! We can do our own hair and makeup, you bitches can’t. Is it that hard to be polite to people, people that are there to help you. I was so taken back by how upset Mary was, she’s such a nice lady, I was so pissed off.
Whoever you are how you treat people in the service industry is very telling of one’s character, or lack thereof. It’s a shame that money can’t buy class.
Sunday, March 31, 2013
Denise
Denise walked in to the salon on a Tuesday night. She was medium height with short wavy red hair and olive skin. Her hair color was slightly off. “No one knows how to fucking cut hair.” Oh shit. She was my worst nightmare: a former hairdresser. Our stylist/customer relationship began.
Denise did her own color (why it was a little off) I did fix it for her once under her direction of course. I liked her. Denise reminded me of myself in some ways. She said what she meant and meant what she said. Like me. We got along great, she was never afraid to tell me anything. “You really scalped me last time.” “This time, not so short okay??” Like I said no fear.
She had two grown children and four grandchildren. Denise was very close to her sister I met her once when she came to get her hair cut. Every six weeks like a clock Denise was in my chair. There was always an underlying stress in her brown eyes, a sadness that lay under the surface. I didn’t ask. I figured when she was ready she would tell me. Or not, which was fine too.
Denise ran a restaurant with her husband. I’ve had several customers in the restaurant business and they all tell me how stressful it is. Then Denise started talking about her daughter, Carrie. Carrie was a drug addict and lived with her drug dealer/addict boyfriend. Looking at this woman always seemed to have it all together you would never think she had a druggie daughter. How could this hard working business owner have a kid on drugs?? Her son was a normal well-adjusted guy with a wife and kid. I listened and asked the obvious questions. Denise had heard it all before but I was trying to help. She had already given her a job (she couldn’t handle work). Tried to get her help in and out of rehab, and her daughter had 3 children from 3 different fathers all who wanted nothing to do with Carrie. Denise and her sister took care of the children. How does a fucking drug addict have not one but 3 kids when there are perfectly healthy people who can’t is a subject for another blog. But what the fuck!?
Time passed and Denise took a trip to Alaska to visit her nephew. She had an amazing time, but she had some back pain. “I must have overdone it” she said, the pain persisted so Denise went to the doctor. I could tell she was a little nervous the doctor had run some tests and she was waiting for results. I had a bad feeling. When Denise came back she told me she had pancreatic cancer that had already spread to her liver. She was starting chemo immediately. When Denise came back six weeks later she was about 30 pounds lighter. Her hair once thick was now one third of its thickness. She decided not to make another appointment since she was losing her hair, I agreed. She talked about her treatment, the fact that she had to close the restaurant. If not for insurance she said they would have lost everything. The treatment was so expensive. Denise said she would call depending on how her hair was doing. I will never forget what Denise said to me when she left.
“This is really fucked up.” That was the last time I ever saw her.
In March of that next year I was thinking about Denise I punched her name in to the computer and her obituary came up. She was diagnosed in October and died in March of the next year. Almost one year to the date that my own mother had passed. I just sat and cried. This lady worked her ass off raised kids started a business and practically raised her grandchildren to die horribly at the age of 56.
In this business we are taught not to get too close to people. I wish I could be a colder person. I think of Denise from time to time, especially in March. I think of her daughter, who in my opinion aided in her mother’s death. Is she still a druggie? Is she even alive?? What about her children, who takes care of them now? I wonder if Denise would still be alive if she only had her son.
R.I.P Denise K. A real nice lady.
Denise did her own color (why it was a little off) I did fix it for her once under her direction of course. I liked her. Denise reminded me of myself in some ways. She said what she meant and meant what she said. Like me. We got along great, she was never afraid to tell me anything. “You really scalped me last time.” “This time, not so short okay??” Like I said no fear.
She had two grown children and four grandchildren. Denise was very close to her sister I met her once when she came to get her hair cut. Every six weeks like a clock Denise was in my chair. There was always an underlying stress in her brown eyes, a sadness that lay under the surface. I didn’t ask. I figured when she was ready she would tell me. Or not, which was fine too.
Denise ran a restaurant with her husband. I’ve had several customers in the restaurant business and they all tell me how stressful it is. Then Denise started talking about her daughter, Carrie. Carrie was a drug addict and lived with her drug dealer/addict boyfriend. Looking at this woman always seemed to have it all together you would never think she had a druggie daughter. How could this hard working business owner have a kid on drugs?? Her son was a normal well-adjusted guy with a wife and kid. I listened and asked the obvious questions. Denise had heard it all before but I was trying to help. She had already given her a job (she couldn’t handle work). Tried to get her help in and out of rehab, and her daughter had 3 children from 3 different fathers all who wanted nothing to do with Carrie. Denise and her sister took care of the children. How does a fucking drug addict have not one but 3 kids when there are perfectly healthy people who can’t is a subject for another blog. But what the fuck!?
Time passed and Denise took a trip to Alaska to visit her nephew. She had an amazing time, but she had some back pain. “I must have overdone it” she said, the pain persisted so Denise went to the doctor. I could tell she was a little nervous the doctor had run some tests and she was waiting for results. I had a bad feeling. When Denise came back she told me she had pancreatic cancer that had already spread to her liver. She was starting chemo immediately. When Denise came back six weeks later she was about 30 pounds lighter. Her hair once thick was now one third of its thickness. She decided not to make another appointment since she was losing her hair, I agreed. She talked about her treatment, the fact that she had to close the restaurant. If not for insurance she said they would have lost everything. The treatment was so expensive. Denise said she would call depending on how her hair was doing. I will never forget what Denise said to me when she left.
“This is really fucked up.” That was the last time I ever saw her.
In March of that next year I was thinking about Denise I punched her name in to the computer and her obituary came up. She was diagnosed in October and died in March of the next year. Almost one year to the date that my own mother had passed. I just sat and cried. This lady worked her ass off raised kids started a business and practically raised her grandchildren to die horribly at the age of 56.
In this business we are taught not to get too close to people. I wish I could be a colder person. I think of Denise from time to time, especially in March. I think of her daughter, who in my opinion aided in her mother’s death. Is she still a druggie? Is she even alive?? What about her children, who takes care of them now? I wonder if Denise would still be alive if she only had her son.
R.I.P Denise K. A real nice lady.
Sunday, March 3, 2013
The Greatest Salon Ever!
When I first started doing hair I worked in Manhattan. Frederic Fekkai Beaute de Provence. It was in the Channel building at the time. The address was 15 East 57th street, between 5th and Madison. It was amazing and to this day it is still greatest salon I have ever worked in. The salon was seven floors. T11 was the employee lockers and lunch room. T1 was reception T2, 3 and 4 was color and cutting and T5 was the spa. The entire salon had marble floors and of course there were mats to protect our precious feet. In the reception area there was a beautiful water fountain. Was there drama and politics?? Of course there was drama, all those stylists and colorists?? Please.
When I was in beauty school a bunch of us went to New York on a salon tour. We visited Fekkai, John Sahag and a few others. The moment I walked in to Frederic Fekkai I knew I wanted to work there. It was beautiful and had a reputation for having a tough training program. I was in. I applied a few months later and met with the head colorist. She told me when I get my license come back and I did.
The salon was departmentalized meaning you picked a side color/chemical or cutting and styling. I chose color it has always been my first love…next to up do’s that is. Each assistant spent 3 to 4 months with a different colorist everyone had a different way of working so you learned little tricks from everyone. It was brilliant!! Being a color assistant was like being an executive secretary. Seat the clients mix color shampoo and constantly check the books. You had to make sure your colorist had their formula cards lined up the night before. And when Countess Von so and so called because she just flew in and had to have her color done, you found time where time didn’t exist to fit her in. Not kidding. We didn’t have to worry about folding towels because we had maids to take care of that for us. Tuesday night was class night; models were there for us to work on with a slightly mean French colorist breathing down your neck. I learned so much working there. I will never forget it.
They believed in hair and beauty and it was more than that. It was about style. All the stylists wore dress pants and shirts, the colorists black pants and white tops. That was important looking the part. And yes those French men were kind of rude. Once working with “Bill” one of his customers wouldn’t stop turning her head as he was trying to color her. Without warning he grabbed her head and just turned it, as if it were in slow motion. She stared at him wide eyed and he just looked at her as if to say “WHAT?!” She didn’t move her head again.
I ended up leaving because I was commuting 4 hours (yes four) a day to work and after three years it just became too much. I often reminisce about working there. Hairstyling is truly an art, and at Frederic Fekkai they really believed that.
When I was in beauty school a bunch of us went to New York on a salon tour. We visited Fekkai, John Sahag and a few others. The moment I walked in to Frederic Fekkai I knew I wanted to work there. It was beautiful and had a reputation for having a tough training program. I was in. I applied a few months later and met with the head colorist. She told me when I get my license come back and I did.
The salon was departmentalized meaning you picked a side color/chemical or cutting and styling. I chose color it has always been my first love…next to up do’s that is. Each assistant spent 3 to 4 months with a different colorist everyone had a different way of working so you learned little tricks from everyone. It was brilliant!! Being a color assistant was like being an executive secretary. Seat the clients mix color shampoo and constantly check the books. You had to make sure your colorist had their formula cards lined up the night before. And when Countess Von so and so called because she just flew in and had to have her color done, you found time where time didn’t exist to fit her in. Not kidding. We didn’t have to worry about folding towels because we had maids to take care of that for us. Tuesday night was class night; models were there for us to work on with a slightly mean French colorist breathing down your neck. I learned so much working there. I will never forget it.
They believed in hair and beauty and it was more than that. It was about style. All the stylists wore dress pants and shirts, the colorists black pants and white tops. That was important looking the part. And yes those French men were kind of rude. Once working with “Bill” one of his customers wouldn’t stop turning her head as he was trying to color her. Without warning he grabbed her head and just turned it, as if it were in slow motion. She stared at him wide eyed and he just looked at her as if to say “WHAT?!” She didn’t move her head again.
I ended up leaving because I was commuting 4 hours (yes four) a day to work and after three years it just became too much. I often reminisce about working there. Hairstyling is truly an art, and at Frederic Fekkai they really believed that.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
I Hate You, and Your Baby Too!
Yesterday a good friend of mine lost her job. Okay people lose their jobs all the time, right? Or was it the continuation of a disturbing trend taking place at Game corp? I have noticed that being pregnant is a liability at Game corp. Sounds crazy? Not really.
Firing someone because they are pregnant is a big accusation but I was looking at the facts. Just six months ago three pregnant women were fired from the same department my friend "Carrie" was. When they put in for their maternity leave it simply wasn't approved. They didn't accumulate enough hours. It's not as if they could just not have their babies. Funny other people in that same department went on leave for less urgent reasons. Like the girl who had to take three months off because of a bad break up. No I'm not kidding.
One of my other co-workers who had a baby and did not lose her job was telling me once how much harder management seemed to make things for her while she was pregnant. Like carrying a heavy ceramic tub filled with supplies to do in room services. I remember her saying " I almost thought they wanted me to have a miscarriage". In another department I knew a woman who was a waitress.. The waitresses at Game corp have a strict dress code. She became pregnant unexpectedly and she was in college at the time. She confided in me that her direct manager told her that it would be best if she terminated her pregnancy. He told her that when most girls have babies they cannot properly fit the uniforms anymore. Again very hard to prove.
There is also the case of the morbidly obese maternity uniform. The director of one of the department's instead of letting the technicians wear their own clothes for 6 or 7 months ordered uniforms for them. The uniforms came in sized 4xl. Because even with a college degree it's not possible to differentiate between a woman who is morbidly obese and one who is expecting a child.
But all of this could just be a coincidence. I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that the salon owner has never been married and has no children. Or the fact that all of the high level positions are held either by men or women who are either single or way past child bearing age. I am sure that the company loves small children, and their mothers too.
Firing someone because they are pregnant is a big accusation but I was looking at the facts. Just six months ago three pregnant women were fired from the same department my friend "Carrie" was. When they put in for their maternity leave it simply wasn't approved. They didn't accumulate enough hours. It's not as if they could just not have their babies. Funny other people in that same department went on leave for less urgent reasons. Like the girl who had to take three months off because of a bad break up. No I'm not kidding.
One of my other co-workers who had a baby and did not lose her job was telling me once how much harder management seemed to make things for her while she was pregnant. Like carrying a heavy ceramic tub filled with supplies to do in room services. I remember her saying " I almost thought they wanted me to have a miscarriage". In another department I knew a woman who was a waitress.. The waitresses at Game corp have a strict dress code. She became pregnant unexpectedly and she was in college at the time. She confided in me that her direct manager told her that it would be best if she terminated her pregnancy. He told her that when most girls have babies they cannot properly fit the uniforms anymore. Again very hard to prove.
There is also the case of the morbidly obese maternity uniform. The director of one of the department's instead of letting the technicians wear their own clothes for 6 or 7 months ordered uniforms for them. The uniforms came in sized 4xl. Because even with a college degree it's not possible to differentiate between a woman who is morbidly obese and one who is expecting a child.
But all of this could just be a coincidence. I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that the salon owner has never been married and has no children. Or the fact that all of the high level positions are held either by men or women who are either single or way past child bearing age. I am sure that the company loves small children, and their mothers too.
Friday, January 25, 2013
Knotted Tresses: Salon Owners: One of The Lowest Forms of Life on E...
Knotted Tresses: Salon Owners: One of The Lowest Forms of Life on E...: It all starts out innocently enough, you did all of your friends hair when you were a teenager. It was fun not a job, you loved it! When eve...
Salon Owners: One of The Lowest Forms of Life on Earth
It all starts out innocently enough, you did all of your friends hair when you were a teenager. It was fun not a job, you loved it! When everyone else was going to college you went to beauty school. It's only nine months and a state test. Time goes buy you graduate and become an assistant. As the years pass you want more, you want to own your Own salon.
What's the problem you ask?? It's called GREED!!! Okay so you work in a salon. First of all some people think (how I have no fucking idea) that the hairdresser/nail tech gets all the money that is charged in a service. NO we don't!! Stylists make a percentage in some very rare cases they also make an hourly, but again that is very rare. So your service is $100 okay a stylist gets between 30 and 40% of that. Understandably the receptionist, assistant have to get paid the lights, water, gas etc. Okay fine. Now the son-of-a-bitch who owns the place starts trying to figure out how to make more money off of you. In the first salon I worked in it was called "deducts". Deducts salon fee, customer fee or whatever bullshit name they give it it is an extra 1 to 5% deduction from your commission. So you really aren't getting that 30% it's more like 25. Now the owner can tell you it's for shampoo, coffee for customers or whatever other lie they want until you see them driving a new BMW. Amazing how that once green assistant forgot what it was like to limp home the first time you worked a 10 hour day. Your hands hurting from being dry and cracked back killing you, now all you can think of is how to fuck over all the other stylists to make an extra buck. You can now buy your bigger house, car more clothes and hopefully one day choke on all of it.
The next dirty little secret about Salon owners is that some of them have never even been to beauty school. Realizing that the beauty business can be a money maker you find a stylist who is willing to let you basically use their license and you're in business. And there is no real way to regulate it, all a matter of paperwork. So all of the salon decisions are made by a businessman/woman. What's wrong with that you ask?? I'll tell you. Your color didn't come out right?? That's because the Owner is trying to save money and hasn't ordered color in a few weeks. So when you go to mix you do your best and say a prayer to the hair Gods and pray that the color comes out right. You don't dare tell the customer that you don't have the right color, not unless you want to find a new job.
And don't think for a minute that the owner who Did go to hair school won't pull the same shit. Trust me. A good friend works in a place where in the interest of being cheap won't order product to sell. How the fuck can you make money on retail when you have no retail to fucking sell!!?? No hair spray for an entire summer. No lip gloss, a big summer seller for the WHOLE summer. What kind of bullshit is that? I have seen it happen. While highlighting a manager in my department (I work in a corporate salon) she said to me "OH there is something to this hair thing you do". Yes you fucking bitch contrary to popular belief a well trained chimpanzee can't do what I do. I do believe that one could do your job though.
What's the problem you ask?? It's called GREED!!! Okay so you work in a salon. First of all some people think (how I have no fucking idea) that the hairdresser/nail tech gets all the money that is charged in a service. NO we don't!! Stylists make a percentage in some very rare cases they also make an hourly, but again that is very rare. So your service is $100 okay a stylist gets between 30 and 40% of that. Understandably the receptionist, assistant have to get paid the lights, water, gas etc. Okay fine. Now the son-of-a-bitch who owns the place starts trying to figure out how to make more money off of you. In the first salon I worked in it was called "deducts". Deducts salon fee, customer fee or whatever bullshit name they give it it is an extra 1 to 5% deduction from your commission. So you really aren't getting that 30% it's more like 25. Now the owner can tell you it's for shampoo, coffee for customers or whatever other lie they want until you see them driving a new BMW. Amazing how that once green assistant forgot what it was like to limp home the first time you worked a 10 hour day. Your hands hurting from being dry and cracked back killing you, now all you can think of is how to fuck over all the other stylists to make an extra buck. You can now buy your bigger house, car more clothes and hopefully one day choke on all of it.
The next dirty little secret about Salon owners is that some of them have never even been to beauty school. Realizing that the beauty business can be a money maker you find a stylist who is willing to let you basically use their license and you're in business. And there is no real way to regulate it, all a matter of paperwork. So all of the salon decisions are made by a businessman/woman. What's wrong with that you ask?? I'll tell you. Your color didn't come out right?? That's because the Owner is trying to save money and hasn't ordered color in a few weeks. So when you go to mix you do your best and say a prayer to the hair Gods and pray that the color comes out right. You don't dare tell the customer that you don't have the right color, not unless you want to find a new job.
And don't think for a minute that the owner who Did go to hair school won't pull the same shit. Trust me. A good friend works in a place where in the interest of being cheap won't order product to sell. How the fuck can you make money on retail when you have no retail to fucking sell!!?? No hair spray for an entire summer. No lip gloss, a big summer seller for the WHOLE summer. What kind of bullshit is that? I have seen it happen. While highlighting a manager in my department (I work in a corporate salon) she said to me "OH there is something to this hair thing you do". Yes you fucking bitch contrary to popular belief a well trained chimpanzee can't do what I do. I do believe that one could do your job though.
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