This is the story of how a Drybar blowout saved my sanity.
My toddler has been getting his molars. I don’t remember this being so awful when my daughter was two, or maybe I’ve blocked it out, or maybe I was so distracted by being pregnant and miserable that I missed it. At any rate, no one in my house has been sleeping normally for the last couple of weeks, especially me and the little tooth-grower.
Can I talk about how much I love and need sleep? A lot. That’s how much.
When I’m chronically sleep deprived, a lot of things go out the window, starting with hair care (followed closely by my sanity). So it was downright providential that Drybar in Milwaukee’s Third Ward invited me to come in for a blowout, their treat, on the very morning when I’d woken up convinced I’d finally lost the will to carry on.
There’s something about having sad, tired hair that makes me feel extra sad and tired. So it was delightful, after walking in feeling exhausted and worn all the way down, to be greeted warmly at the front desk, get my cup of tea with sweet cream, and just zone out for an hour while Cheyenne got my hair squeaky clean and styled.
I’ve tried every style in the Drybar lookbook at least once, so I let my stylist pick our direction. She opted for Dirty Martini, one of my favorites because it’s easy and unfussy. It looks like what my hair would look like when I rolled out of bed in the morning if I were Kate Hudson and my life were a romantic comedy instead of a dark thriller about sleepless, tooth-cutting toddler tantrums. I also find it a little bit trickier to maintain than some of the other styles, but this blowout wasn’t about longevity. It was about making me feel human again.
Listen, the term “self-care” gets thrown around a lot, but it actually matters (in a First World Problems kind of way; I mean, obviously clean water and safety and food and shelter are things that actually matter, but self-care is a thing that should matter if your immediate needs are met). Pre-blowout, I was at the end of my rope and I had the messy bun to prove it. Post-blowout? Well, just look at that Zen master face.
You’d never guess she hadn’t slept in a week.