It Looks Like a Formula Card. But It's Really a Story.
When people think about a hairstylist's formula card, they usually imagine a few numbers and letters scribbled across an index card.
6N
20 volume
Gloss for 10 minutes.
Yes, those things matter.
But if you ever looked at one of my formula cards, you'd probably be surprised by what you found.
There are color formulas, of course.
But there are also names.
Your husband.
Your kids.
Your grandkids.
Your favorite drink.
The vacation you were excited about.
The promotion you've been working toward.
The surgery your mom was nervous about.
The puppy that chewed up your favorite shoes.
The daughter who just got engaged.
The grandson who started kindergarten.
The friend you've been praying for.
Because I don't just want to remember your hair.
I want to remember you.
Before you ever sit in my chair, you've probably already filled out a few forms from me. Some people laugh because they wonder why a hairstylist wants to know what they drink, what snacks they enjoy, what products they're currently using, how often they wash their hair, or what they love to do outside of work.
There's a reason.
Every answer helps me prepare before you ever walk through my door.
I ask you to send me inspiration photos.
Then I ask for current photos.
Sometimes those two things match perfectly. Sometimes they don't.
Maybe the haircut you love online would require twice the styling time you're willing to spend each morning.
Maybe your hair texture would fight that look every single day.
Maybe there's another version of that style that would actually fit your life better.
So before we ever meet, I'm already thinking.
Not just, "How can I make her hair look beautiful?"
I'm thinking, "How can I make this work for her?"
Because beautiful hair that only lasts until you wash it isn't really a win.
Beautiful hair that fits your lifestyle is.
Then, when you come in, our conversation continues.
You might casually mention your sister.
I'll probably ask how she's doing.
You might mention your granddaughter's wedding.
The next time I see you, don't be surprised if I ask how the wedding turned out.
If you tell me your son just accepted a new job, I'll probably write it down.
If your husband is recovering from surgery, I'll remember to ask how he's feeling.
If you tell me you're nervous about an interview, I'll be rooting for you long after you leave my salon.
Some people have joked that my notes look like a diary.
Maybe they're right.
But to me, they're reminders that every person who sits in my chair has a life outside these four walls.
You aren't just a 6-week highlight.
You aren't just gray coverage.
You aren't just extensions.
You're someone balancing work, family, faith, celebrations, disappointments, milestones, vacations, school events, doctor's appointments, and everything else life brings.
And for a couple of hours, you trusted me enough to let me be part of that story.
That's something I never want to take for granted.
So yes, I write down your formula.
I also write down the little things.
Because little things have a way of making people feel remembered.
And in a world where so many conversations are rushed and so many
relationships stay on the surface, I want my chair to feel different.
I want you to know you're seen.
I want you to know you're heard.
I want you to know you're remembered.
So if I ask you six weeks from now how your granddaughter liked her wedding dress...
Or whether your husband ever caught that fish he was hoping for...
Or if your first grader is still loving school...
It's not because I have an incredible memory.
It's because you mattered enough for me to write your story down.
Your hair may be why you found me.
But it's never the only reason I look forward to seeing you again.
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