We're Not In Pine Brook Anymore

new york looks prettiest from new jersey

1/28/2011

Hello Dolly

Ahem. Is this thing still on?

I know. I’ve neglected this blog -- and the other one -- and YOU. Let's blame work. It’s been a little crazy lately.

Good crazy. And crazy crazy.

I’ve recently been given a few new websites to work on. Of course, I’ve still got the wedding planning site (something old), but now I’ve inherited a food site (something new), which is totally up my alley.

Plus, I’m channeling my days working for the Gnome by taking on a travel site (something borrowed), and they've given me a fashion site too (something blue), just for good measure.  Hope they don't catch on that my fashion sense is just a step past Amish.

Anyway, if I could only clone myself, I’d be all set.

Luckily, I met with a company last week that lets you do just that. And you don’t even have to be a sheep! In fact, it’s preferable if you aren’t.

I should warn you, this is not for the faint of heart.

First, you have to remove all your makeup and take a photo with your hair pulled back off your face. Yikes. Next, you upload the pic and zoom in on each of your facial features to help them understand where everything is. This is when you discover that the left and right sides of your face are not symmetrical.  Or maybe that's just me. But then, the worst is behind you and you can try on hairstyles and makeup until even YOU don’t recognize your own head anymore. Wheeee.

It’s totally fun, and it’s FAR better than actually doing any of these things to yourself permanently.

I don't know about you, but I haven’t had very good luck experimenting over the years. Like the time in the 8th grade when my hair overdosed on Sun-In and I wound up looking like Ronald McDonald’s little sister. With braces. Or the time in the 10th grade that my hairdresser, Conrad, was high on cocaine (true story) and left my perm solution in so long that my hair had the texture of a poodle dipped in honey. Or even the time during my senior year in college when I chopped my hair so short, I could have been mistaken for the guy on the Dutch Boy paint can.

In my experience, beauty can get pretty ugly.

But thanks to the magic of the internet, we can experiment without doing lasting damage -- to our hair, or our psyche.

So, I now know I look awful as a blonde in the Reese Witherspoon (middle left) and as a redhead in the Ashlee Simpson (top right). I see I have a giant forehead in the Victoria Beckham (bottom left). I could be recruited by the Ice Capades in the Christina Applegate (middle right). And I’d probably need to buy some clothes made of hemp to pull off the Jen Aniston (bottom right).

I have to say, though, I kind of liked the Lea Michele (main image).

I even dig the reverse roots that make the ends of our hair a different color than the rest. And while I never load up on the eye makeup like you see here, it makes me believe I could do a smoky eye and not look like a total tramp.

Or a tranny. 

I might even take this look for a spin on a date! Maybe I should practice first on a trip to Gristedes, the grocery store with mini-bar prices…

Anyway, check it out if you get a chance. And if you don’t like your new look, you can just delete it instead of locking yourself in the bathroom, like I did after the Salon Perm Massacre of 1989.

Care to share a hair nightmare?  Do it below.
 

tags: beauty, work
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3 comments:

jessica said...

I once dyed my own hair blonde and it came out green-ish. My mom got it fixed in a salon, but it was so damaged they had to cut off a ton so then I looked like a little blonde boy. This way seems much less painful.

PS: You look cute with bangs! :)

chris said...

This is really cool, why don't they make it for guys hair? Also, you look a little like Amy Winehouse's sober sister in this pic. In a good way!

Jenny From The 'Brook said...

Jess: I'd like to see you as a little blonde boy. And if I keep getting older each year, I may just cut some youthful bangs.

Chris: Um, because it would be boring. Ha, I kind of do look a little Winehouse, don't I?