It had been two months since my last visit to a hair salon, which in curly-hair time is roughly equivalent to neglect. I had reasons, of course. Work. Life. Scheduling. The usual adult excuses. And to make matters worse, my preferred stylist had become so hard to book — I was beginning to suspect he was either overbooked or secretly cutting hair for diplomats. So one fine Sunday afternoon, armed with mild frustration and a mirror that had starte…
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