How Mercury Retrograde & I Ruined Gaia Matisse’s Hair

Last Sunday’s futuristic-themed annual Met Gala event featured a number of celebs sporting bleached eyebrows, so naturally, I thought to try it out myself. Actually, I asked a friend, Gaia Matisse, to bleach my eyebrows for me, and then in return, I would dye her hair platinum blonde with an at-home box dye. Which, as any modern woman knows is a terrible idea.

First, we bleached my eyebrows. It was a fairly simple process, involving a mixture of two lil’ Sally Hansen Creme Bleach products, a thick, creamy application of the paste onto half of my forehead, and a waiting period of approximately 8 minutes. While waiting for my eyebrows to lighten, we watched the Justin Bieber movie and ate Salt n’ Straw ice cream.

I dyed Gaia’s hair with my own two hands, which was a disaster from the very start. The bottle of dye, for some reason, kept spurting in different directions, first almost landing toxic hair product directly in my eyeball, — I just now remember telling Gaia, “Thank God I wasn’t blinded forever!” while holding a warm washcloth over my swollen eye — and then almost on Bambi, Gaia’s dog, a butterfly Chihuahua, with literally the best attitude out of any dog I’ve ever met.

Gaia’s hair dried, and I rinsed off my eyebrow bleach, and Gaia and I looked at each other, and both of our hearts sank. Not even Justin Bieber’s voice, 2 pints of ice cream, and a little bit of red wine could mask the errors of my amateur cosmetic skills — my eyebrows were orange, and her hair was really fucked up. Parts of her head were spotty and orange, and others were completely bleached out. On one sideburn, there was a spot of bleach, making it look like she’d shaved a small portion of hair above her ear.

“I’m so… sorry,” I told Gaia. I felt so, so sorry for ruining her hair. She forgave me, luckily. Probably because I looked like a clown with orange eyebrows, and who can be mad at that?

Photo on 5-5-16 at 2.56 PM #5

I made the really panicked, and somewhat inappropriate call to Insta-DM Sal Salcedo, a hairstylist, whom I once I wrote about for his “impeccable” skillz, the only guy I’d trust to save me. At 11:40 PM.


Sal, angel that he is, responded to me quickly and very appropriately, saying:

“Holy shit! That’s crazy!”

He invited us to come into the salon, Ramirez Tran in Beverly Hills the next day, promising that he, and his colleague, a colorist named Cherin Choi could fix us right up. And fix us up, they did.


The next day, we arrived at the salon at 1:30 p.m., and didn’t leave until 8:00 o’clock that night. When I saw Sal, we both burst out laughing at my folly, and then he introduced us to Cherin Choi, who is probably the coolest-looking person I’ve ever met. I mean, check out how cute they are:

And check out the magic they were able to do with Gaia’s hair, after 8 laborious hours of fixing my mistakes.

“I’m not going to lie to you,” Cherin had said slowly, upon examining Gaia’s hair when she sat down. “You really fucked her up.”

Gaia and I hit the town after, psyched on our new looks. That’s right, bleaching my brows orange didn’t deter me from my original desire to rock a robot-alien look this week. Cherin bleached my brows to a pale yellow, and explained to me that there would be a lot of maintenance to my look. The dark hairs have already started growing in, but IDGAF. Clearly. She said as soon as I get over my bleached brows, the cool part is that all I need to do is start coloring them in with a brown shadow; apparently they’ll naturally pick the color up and stay that way.

When will I tire of my new look, though? Probably when retrograde is over, and I come to my senses.

Please excuse my broken phone camera for the blurry iPhone photos.

Gimme More Beauty

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