Ever wondered why someone might switch from being blonde to brunette after more than three decades? For me, the change wasn’t due to a breakup, a midlife crisis, or even a new job.
It was because my cherished French hairdresser retired.
After years of enduring disastrous haircuts and colors at various French salons, finding her was like discovering a rare gem.
So, when she gave me the news, I was heartbroken and immediately booked every possible appointment until her final day.
Since her retirement, I’ve channeled my inner French girl with a low-maintenance haircut and color routine.
I now dye my hair brunette with a box dye that I pick up in Spain every few months for just €2.99.
While I love many aspects of life in France—and I do feel a bit guilty admitting this, given that I’ve lived here for 16 years and am now a French citizen—one thing that hasn’t won me over is the local hairdressing scene.
If you’re visiting France this summer, enjoy the delicious bread and wine, but steer clear of the hair salons.
A Chaotic Experience
French salons often operate on a chaotic appointment system.
You’ll never be seen at your scheduled time. My hair horror stories are numerous.
I’ve walked out with everything from silver streaks to orange tints. Once, after spending €100, I left with the same root regrowth I had when I walked in.
On the eve of my French wedding in 2008, I experienced one of my worst salon nightmares. Instead of the elegant champagne blonde chignon we’d discussed, I ended up with a ratty brunette hairpiece and orange highlights.
The uneven color blotches from the peroxide only added to the disaster. Though I wanted to cry, I downed a glass of fizz my sisters provided and told them to cancel their own appointments to avoid further tears.
Seeking Solutions
Despite the country’s reputation for style, I found myself returning to the UK every eight weeks for highlights with a fantastic stylist in Solihull.
I trusted him completely, and the trips, though frequent, were worth it.
A chic blonde friend of mine has also struggled with French salons and continues to fly back to her Knightsbridge salon for her hair.
Another friend uses air miles to keep up with her Essex-based appointments. I only stopped going to Solihull due to the lack of affordable flights outside summer.
The Search for Quality
Many of my visits to French salons were based on word-of-mouth recommendations, requiring long drives through rural France.
I even tried home-based salons, but they were surprisingly pricey and often unsatisfactory. I once paid €150 for highlights that made me look like a member of the Spice Boys.
Another local salon run by a blonde woman left my ends breaking and my patience wearing thin.
The Brunette Solution
After years of frustration and a series of subpar experiences, I found a brilliant hairdresser named Nicole by chance in a neighboring village.
However, since her retirement, I’ve resigned myself to the fact that French stylists won’t touch my hair again unless it’s for my final farewell.
For now, I stick with my budget-friendly brunette dye and a low-maintenance routine. It’s a far cry from the hair nightmares I endured in France, but at least it keeps me looking stylish without the stress.
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