Because we have lived through this ordeal several times, I know that getting the hair cut is never good. Never.
The rest of the conversation goes:
Her: "I just hate it that it's all one length. It's so boring. I don't even look like I have a style."
Me: "You look like every other girl coming out of school every day: long, straight hair, parted on the side or pulled back in a messy bun/pony tail."
Her: Totally ignoring me, "Mom, can we get it cut today?"
Me: "I have a bad feeling about this. You are usually extremely unhappy after we do this."
Her: "Mom ... can we--"
Me: "OK, how do you want it cut?"
Her: "I don't know."
Me: Dying inside because that is the worst thing she could've said. "Well, you have to know what you want before you go. You have to give the stylist instructions. You have to know what you want and communicate it clearly so that you're not disappointed after."
Her: "I know."
Me: "So, what is the look you're after?"
Her: "I don't know. I just want it cut."
Me: Blood pressure rising, in spite of the fact that I have low blood pressure. "Then we're not going because you don't know what you want, and that is not fair to the stylist." (And I'm thinking, "Or fair to me," because I know I am the one who will have to deal with the emotional fall-out of teenaged disappointment, which is the only thing worse than teenaged angst.)
Her: Sensing she is losing ground now: "OK, layers. I want layers."
Me: "No you don't."
Her: "What? Yes I do!"
Me: "The last time you got layers, you hated them."
Her: "That's because they were like uneven places my hair, like chunks ... not even."
Me: "That is the definition of 'layer,' and you don't want them."
Her: "Yes I do."
Me: Switching tracks quickly, "Is there a girl at school or a celebrity who has the look you're after? Maybe we could take a picture in."
We go to the Internet and search "Teenage hairstyles, layered."
*Me: "How about this one?"
Me: "This one?"
*(Repeat this loop about 25 times.)
Me: "OK, this is ridiculous. You don't like any style on the face of the earth. Do you want the stylist to consult salons on Mars to see what's trendy there?"
Enter Dad: "Whatcha doing? Uh ... uh-oh. Sorry. I'm outta here." Exit Dad.
Me: "All right, this is a stretch, but what if we drew what you're thinking of; would that help?"
Her: "I don't know." (Why am I not surprised by that answer?)
So I think I have it figured out. We go and talk to the stylist. I say:
"I think she wants long layers, not blunt-cut, but razor cut or point cut--I'm not sure of the term. She wants the layers to blend, and the shortest layer should start at about chin level, keeping her current length as much as possible."
Stylist: Snaps gum for a few seconds and picks up chunks of Daughter's hair and lets them drop over and over while she listens. "OK!" she says, "Ya, sure, ya!" Nick Arrojo never snaps his gum or says, "Ya."
Thirty minutes later, it's a fait accompli.
Me: In the car. "Do you like it?"
Her: "Yes, I think I do!"
Fast forward to next morning before school. She comes out to gather her books together before leaving.
THE HAIR IS IN A PONY TAIL, JUST AS IT HAS BEEN FOR THE LAST SIX MONTHS.
I am a frustrated mom. But I am also a smart mom, so I do not even ask. At least we're not drawing tattoos every 6 months.