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Itwas a day like any other. Nothing particularly special. Actually, itwas a pretty good day. I had just left work, the sun was shining, and Iwas just musing on how good life was. At 28, I had my dream job: layouteditor at a fashion magazine. I've been a huge fashion buff for years,and this gave me the opportunity to sample the newest trends oftenbefore they hit the mainstream markets. I had a huge closet full ofgreat clothes and shoes that I didn't even pay for. On this particularday I happened to be wearing a fitted, white silk blouse with ahigh-waisted charcoal pencil skirt and black lacy footless tights. Andheels of course. I've got at least 50 pairs of shoes. 48 of them areheels. Everything looks better with heels. I thought I looked prettygood. 

LikeI said, I'm a huge fashion buff, but I've never followed hair trends.My hair has been the same since high school. And why should I changeit? My hair is perfect. Not terribly thick, but long (almost to mywaist), straight, all the same length, and a beautiful chocolate brown.In fact I was on my way to get it trimmed. 

Istepped into the salon and was greeted by my stylist. I had been goingto Luis for probably 8 years. I was always happy with his service, andhe wasn't bad to look at either. I stepped into the chair and he threwthe cape over my shoulders and proceeded to brush out my hair. Weexchanged small talk for a few minutes as he worked. It had been 3months or so since I'd been in so he said he was going to take off acouple inches. He finished and moved to put his tools away. I made acoy smile and accidentally let a giggle escape my lips. I barelynoticed, but he did. 

"What?" he asked.

"Oh," I replied. "I just had a sudden urge to do something different."I didn't realize until later that I had been thinking out loud.

"Really," he said. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes. I d....."

BeforeI could react, or even blink, he combed all my hair from middle of myhead forward and cut it off at eye level. It took less than 5 seconds.I think my heart stopped. I couldn't breathe. What had just happened? 

Istared up at him through the newly severed lengths. He looked back intomy eyes and said, "You've had the same style for as long as I've knownyou. I knew if you ever gave me the chance I'd have to act quickly, soI was ready." 

Myheart was pounding out of my chest. I knew I had no choice but to lethim finish. He continued by cleaning up the wedge of hair he startedwith, combing it forward and evening up the lengths. He then carefullycut it straight across at eyebrow level, leaving it slightly longer onthe edges. He finished by rolling it over a brush and blow-drying,finally pulled away the gown. 

"What do you think?" he asked in his latin accent.

I looked,turning my head from side to side, up and down. I barely recognized theperson staring back at me. My eyes and cheeks looked completelydifferent. I liked it. I really liked it. A big smile broached my lips. 

"I love it!" I exclaimed. "Why didn't you make me do this a long time ago?"

I stood up and gave him a hug. And tipped him handsomely.

The reaction the next day at work was unanimously positive. I was really proud of my new look. 

Overthe next several months I kept my bangs trimmed to that length. Icouldn't justify going in to the salon just for that so I trimmed themmyself, with surprisingly satisfactory results. After about 3 months Idecided it was time to trim my long hair again, so I booked anotherappointment with Luis. I picked another stylish outfit for the trip: apale blue, off-the-shoulder tunic sweater with a wide belt and blackleggings. 

Iwas greeted with enthusiasm by Luis, who ushered me into his chair anddraped me. I was about to ask for a simple trim when I was again struckwith the desire for something different, but wasn't afraid to voice itthis time. 

"I really liked where you took me last time, and I think I'd like to continue down that vein," I said.

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, with more emphasis than I intended.

The next thing I heard was a *schnick*. And he handed me eight inches of my hair. My jaw dropped, and then I smiled. 

"Next, color," he said.

I was taken to a sink on the other side of the salon and my hair washedand treated. After some time I emerged from dryer and was brought backto my chair. The foils were removed and I was blonde. Not bleachedblonde, but kind of a dirty blonde. My hair had never been colored ortreated before, and the experience of seeing myself like that wassomething else. 

Hecontinued by brushing my hair out and then trimming my bangs again toeyebrow length. But he didn't stop with the bangs. He picked up thehair farther back and adding progressively longer layers until he cameto the crown. These were about 8 or 10 inches in length. The layers inthe front were the same length as my bangs. He did the same on thesides, and seemed to be taking of quite a bit of volume. All my longhair was now behind my ears. The longest layers on the sides came onlyto mid-neck. He cut several longer layers in the back. The cut wasstyled with a roll-brush and blow-dryer. The finished product was sleekbut had more body than I ever thought was possible with my hair. Itlooked great. Kind of like a modified shag. I couldn't wait to show itoff, and everyone loved it. 

Ikept it like this for quite a while. But at last it came time to go infor a cut. This time I wore an oversized graphic T-shirt tucked into apair of high-waisted, white skinny jeans. I entered the salon and gaveLuis a wink. He took me to the chair and I made myself comfortable. 

"Make me over," I said.

"Do you trust me?" he asked again.

"Of course," I replied.

"Don't get too comfortable," he responded. "We're going to start with the color this time."

After about forty-five minutes or so my new hair color was unveiled to me. It was a very unassuming medium brown. Nice, I thought. 

He then dugin to the cut. First off he cut a bunch more length of the back. Myhair now ended square between my shoulders. He moved to the top next,trimming the layers much shorter than they were before. It was no morethan four inches all along the top, from front to back. He graduallyblended the crown into the longer hair in the back. Next he went to thesides. Starting on the left he cut away all the hair above my ear,tapering it up to blend with the top. He left a sideburn angling downto the middle of my ear and above the ear cut the hair very close,ending with a smooth transition to the longer hair in the back. Herepeated the same on the right side. Finally he brushed away the loosehair and gave me a left sided part. I was shocked at what I saw. I nowhad a bona fide mullet. And it looked fabulous. It was very clean onthe sides and beautifully transitioned to the back. I always thoughtmullets were ridiculous, but now I had one and it seemed completelynormal. It fit my features perfectly. It was stunning. 

Ionce again expressed my earnest gratitude and left the shop with a hugesmile. I have to admit it drew quite a few double takes, but I didn'tmind. I was flattered. Everyone at work loved it. I returned monthlyfor trims, because I wanted to keep it looking so sharp. 

After3 or 4 more months, the bug returned again. Something told me to wearblack and sexy today, so I picked out a slinky black minidress andfishnets and headed in for my new look. 

Luis sat me down and I said, "I'm ready for the next round."

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

"Whole heartedly," I exclaimed.

"Color," he said.

Thistime it was jet black. It made an interesting contrast to my minimallytanned skin. I jumped a bit at the sound I heard next. He had a largepair of clippers in his hand, with a plastic guard over the teeth.Number 3, he had told me. I stiffened a bit and his calming movementsmade me relax a little. He raised the clippers to my temple and ranthem up along the side of my head until he had cleared a sizable area.He repeated the same on the other side. I found that I really enjoyedthe feeling of the clippers. It was kind of like a sensual scalpmassage. I almost didn't want him to stop. Then he took his scissorsand started chopping wildly at the top of my hair. He left it verychoppy and uneven with the longest strands being less than threeinches. He continued to thin the back and cut the longer part uneven aswell. The length ended at the base of my neck and it was much thinnerthan it had been. He then gooped my hair up random directions withproduct. Even the bangs were asymmetric and choppy. 

He stood back and looked at his handiwork and said, "One last finishing touch."

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

"Absolutely," I responded.

Hegrabbed a smaller pair of clippers with no guard and, one after theother, removed my eyebrows. My jaw dropped again. He then took someshaving cream and shaved them smooth with a straight razor. 

"Wow!" I breathed. 

Again he had worked a miracle. My hairstylist was a genius. My friendsall oohed and awwed at my new style. I kept the eyebrows shaved forwell over a month. The cut started to grow out a bit and I decided tolet my brows grow too. I liked the way my hair looked as it grew, butthe roots looked horrendous, so I kept dying it black with home dyes. 

After anotherthree months of unchecked growth I made an appointment. I wanted towear something really pretty and feminine. I selected a green and blackdress with tiered ruffles, and a white belt and matching white shoes. Ientered the salon and was greeted with a hug by my Luis. He motioned metoward the chair and I happily sat down. 

"I'm all yours," I said.

"Do you trust me?" 

"Completely," I said. 

He grabbedthe large clippers he had used before on my temples and removed theguard. I flinched a little as they moved toward the center of myforehead. He plunged them straight back. Pass after pass, over the topof my head. He did the same on both sides and the back. Having my napeshaved was wonderful. But before I knew it it was over. But it wasn'tover. He took a steaming hot wet towel and wrapped it around my head.It was almost too much to stand, but soon I could feel my skin andpores loosening up. The towel was removed and he spread hot lather allover my scalp, and then stroke after stroke removed it with hisstraight razor. I watched every movement intently. I was graduallyfinding myself more and more turned on. I couldn't explain it. At lasthe moved his hands all over my denuded scalp looking for strays andremoving them. 

Iwas bald. Completely bald. And sexy. This look really worked on me. Itfelt fresh, but at the same time, it felt like I'd always been likethis. 

Heput some moisturizing lotion on my head and deeply massaged my scalp.The feeling was exquisite. At last he tore open the cape. 

I couldn't stop staring at the girl in the mirror. He leaned in and asked, "Can I take you out for dinner?"

"I'd love to," I replied. "But what took you so long?"

"I just have a thing for women with really short haircuts."

I couldn't help but laugh. 

So began a wonderful relationship filled with many extreme hairstyles.

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