My Month in Europe: The Hair That Deserves Its Own Blog Post

Disclaimer:
This blog post is mainly for my own amusement and recall as time passes and I forget how I had an entire year of awful hair.
This also serves as a reminder to myself to treat my hair right.
You'd best believe I'll never be damaging my hair again.

Disclaimer #2:
I apologize for how narcissistic this post seems, after all, it's just hair, right? (Wrong. Ask any woman.)
Silly as it seems, it was a big deal, and resulted in a lot of pictures to document the hair-growth process over the course of a year.

As many of you know, I was that one person who fried her hair while in Europe.

They aren't kidding when they say you can blow up a blow drier or curling iron with the difference in voltage on the other side of the pond.

While preparing to go to Europe I decided I didn't want to take my nice curling iron, so I bought a cheaper one that had dual voltage for both Europe and the United States.

Fast forward to day three in Europe.

I only wash my hair every three days or so, and the night came to get it washed. 

My European voltage hair dryer worked great that night, no problems!

The next morning I plugged in the curling iron and got to work.

Unfortunately it completely stopped working about three curls in.

Also unfortunately, I would lightly hairspray my hair before curling it to help it hold the curls, so that had already been done.

When the iron stopped working I had to change my plans and use Katy's nice Chi straightener.

Again, unfortunately, it completely overheated, and I only realized how hot it was getting when I literally burned a part of my hair off right by my face.

I freaked out and panicked but tried my hardest not to worry about it for the rest of that day.

Fast forward to the next time I washed my hair in London (after one of my favorite days of the entire trip).

I was blow drying my hair that night and knew that something was incredibly wrong.

And again, unfortunately, the hairspray + the overheating straightener = a whole heck of a lot more damage than I initially thought.

My hair was scorched. 

Quite literally.

Scorched.

Here are some pictures to prove my point...

This was before, at the beginning of the trip:

I mean, look at those soft, flowing, curls!

And this, my friends... this was after the whole incident...

A frizzy, tangly, unmanageable mess.

Let's get a closer look to prove my point...

You guys, it was bad.
Real bad.

So bad that the morning after I discovered just how damaged it was, I ran around the Paris train station trying to get just enough Wi-Fi to FaceTime my mom.
I bawled like a baby.

You don't mess with a girl and her hair, that's for dang sure.

The day after I got home from Europe I called my magician of a hair stylist (seriously, she's incredible!) and told the receptionist I needed to get in ASAP.
My stylist generally books out at least six weeks, but I told the receptionist to tell Kati I had damaged my hair in Europe and it was an emergency.

She got me in right away.
(Did I already say how amazing she is?!)

I so did not want to cut off my hair, but she recommended we take quite a bit off, so I conceded, and this happened...

Fortunately, I ended up liking it (somewhat), and it helped that she did a few deep treatments on it to tame the frizzy mess that it was.

Also, fortunately, my hair grows like a weed.
My hair grows an inch to an inch and a half per MONTH.

If this had to happen to anyone, I'm glad it happened to me, because when your hair grows at that rate it doesn't take three years to grow out all of that damage.

I took the following picture in June of 2015, just eight months after damaging it, and just before chopping it off shorter than it's ever been before...

It was already nearly grown out to my chin.

So, the appointment came, and it was time to cut it all off.
Almost all of the damage would be gone, with just about an inch left at the very ends in some parts.

This was right before my appointment...

I was smiling, but I was a nervous wreck.

I loved, loved, loved, my long hair, and I was so resistant to cutting it, but I wanted that damage gone.

That wasn't even all of it!
Eek!

And here was the after...

Thankfully, I ended up absolutely falling in love with my short hair!

Just before the year anniversary of leaving for Europe, I went back for a trim with my stylist to cut the final bits of damage off.

She was astounded that my hair had grown fast enough to be able to cut off the last of it in just one year.

As I said before, if it had to happen to anyone, at least it was someone whose hair grows at non-human rates.

At my last appointment she asked if I wanted to start growing it out.

I surprised her, and myself, when I confidently said no.

So, an unfortunate situation that resulted in an entire year of painfully damaged hair, turned into a very fortunate risk I was forced to take, and ended up loving.

I baby my hair now and that includes no longer hairspraying it before curling it.

Needless to say, I learned a year-long lesson.

So there ya have it, the hair that deserves its own blog post.

(Major credit to Kati Wheat at Cake Hair Salon!)