Dear Hairdresser, No — We Can’t Reschedule For Next Week

A privileged white woman’s rant about a ruined escape

Anna Rova
5 min readOct 26, 2023


You see, fitting in a hair appointment just before the private screening of a sustainable fashion movie is extremely important because this is the one night where I get to take myself out and feel fabulous. This is the one time I have for me.

When I don’t have to think about what to cook for dinner, what to pack in fucking lunchboxes, turn on the bath on time, wash cute bottoms, put “Frozen” pyjamas on and read stupid “Cat In The Hat” books. Oh hang, on, and then potentially be also available for my husband’s sexual needs.

My haircut appointment is my escape.

I do have my tools and practices that help me process my feelings and that is what I will be doing tomorrow morning but tonight…

I rant.

No — we can’t reschedule for next week.

And, no, these things should not “happen from time to time.”

You are a great hairdresser. You’ve cut my hair once and it was great. I enjoyed the experience. I’ve also scheduled to dye my hair with you a few months back last time but you cancelled on me because you got sick and, fortunately, your colleague was available so I did it with her (it wasn’t great but it was ok.)

You’re a very pleasant woman and I could see myself having a coffee with you and even being friends and I understand that sometimes things do happen but as a person who is providing a service, the way you handle these things and your clients matters.

You have clients who book in appointments with you and it is your responsibility and duty to make sure that clients get in and get out on time. If your client requires an extra 1.5 hours (thus, eating up my appointment) you have to let them (not me) know “Sorry, Angela — we don’t have time for this huge color correction today because I have another client at 5.30 PM. We can only do X today.” And then you let your client decide what they want to do.

If, however, you made a mistake, and misjudged the amount of time it will take you to be with this client and you need to cancel my appointment, please do not ask me to reschedule for next week (!) and that “these things happen from time to time.”

Offer me something else because apologies are not enough. Offer me to add a fucking hair mask for free next time that usually costs $50. Hell, offer me a haircut for free because you have made a mistake. I will be your client forever.

But, please, do not text me one hour before our appointment with “I’m running very behind with a huge color correction. Is it possible to get you in at 5 PM with Becca or perhaps reschedule for next week?”

No, it’s not fucking possible to get me in at 5 PM with Becca or reschedule for next week because I have carefully orchestrated this visit and have planned it two weeks in advance.

And before you dismiss me as this crazy bitch who is probably on her period, let me explain, Rebecca, why I’m so hormonal #nothormonal.

You see, a woman’s appointment with a hairdresser, even if it’s a haircut, is a life-changing event. It’s an event that happens every 2–3 months and it’s the highlight of the day, week and month. It’s a whole experience.

It’s an experience of relaxation, confidence building, looking and feeling beautiful.

And feeling confident and beautiful is something that I desperately NEED in my life.

I run a business and I have two small children. My work schedule is filled with 8-hour days sitting on a chair talking to clients, being in meetings and making money. I wake up at 5 AM, have my morning routine, wake up my kids, cook them breakfast, take them to daycare and then the grind begins. Monday through Friday. Sometimes on weekends. Six days a week I exercise and on Saturdays I go to sauna and an ice bath while my husband takes them to swimming and dance classes. Sundays we go to the beach and chill.

And, unfortunately, today you have ruined it for me without providing a nice alternative. You have robbed me of the escape. You have made me go to this event with my greasy hair where I felt like that woman who really doesn’t care about how she looks.

But, Sarah, I do. I really do. I try to look good. I try to feel good. Because life as a woman, wife, mother and business owner is really FUCKING HARD. I am so grateful for this life and I love it but it’s just really fucking hard.

And so as much as this whole rant might seem to you like a crazy woman over-reacting, please understand that the $150 that I was prepared to spend with you today was my lifeline. It was the time I looked forward to for two weeks. Sometimes, the image of me in that chair looking in mirror while you’re cutting my hair and doing my beachy waves is what got me through the day.

The anticipation of someone else washing my hair and massaging my scalp is what gave me motivation to go forward. I would take a hair salon visit over a sex session any day. Why?

Because I can just arrive and be taken care of. I can just relax and be. I can just read a mindless magazine, drink my lemon ginger tea and let the smells of hair spray and leave-in conditioner take me to the unknown lands of peace and serenity without dirty nappies and screaming.

This is what you have taken away from me today.

And this is why I cried in the driver seat of my blue Hyundai in the parking lot.

But, Sarah, please do not feel awful about this whole mishap and do not worry about me.

I’m an independent woman who doesn’t like to be a victim. So while you were colouring that other privileged woman’s hair, I took myself to a nice restaurant and got myself a Skin Contact wine, an $8 scallop and some nice chargrilled peppers. I left the bartender a 20 percent tip (he was cute and made me feel like a lady) and I had a cigarette after.

Tomorrow I will drop on my hands and knees and do my embodiment practice that will help me release this frozen tension in my body. Tomorrow when my babies wake up, I will look into their beautiful eyes and forget all about you. Tomorrow, I will wash my hair and maybe even curl it myself. Tomorrow, I will wear a beautiful dress and put on red lipstick. To top it off, tomorrow, I might finally have sex with my horny husband.

And, tomorrow, I will book an appointment with another hairdresser who can make me feel the way I want to feel.

Like a woman. ❤



Anna Rova

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