Less than a week ago, I packed up my home, my life, and everything I knew, and moved 437 miles from the house that built me. I had no job, little money, and no more than 3 friends in Huntington Beach. I did however, have boxes full of haute clothing (well, they looked haute), an iPhone playlist to pump me up every day, and more dreams than could fit in the back of my Pontiac. I knew that if I wanted to be somebody, if I wanted to be the hair artist I knew I could be, I needed to be down there.
Now, that was an awfully impulsive decision. I made the decision to leave, and six weeks later, I was sleeping on an air mattress in my new home. Many of my friends and family, out of love, voiced their extreme concern about the rashness of my decision. "You don't have a job down there!" "You don't know anyone down there!" What if your car explodes!" Well, me being the level headed rash-decision maker that I am, had already considered all of these instances and obstacles. And I had a game plan. I know myself, and I know that I'm a very positive, personable person. I've always had luck finding work. So as long as I could find some job, ANY job, to pay the bills, I could take the time to establish myself in the hair industry of Los Angeles.
Well, this is where I ran into my first snafu. It seems Los Angeles's hair industry is, expectably, exponentially more competitive than Sacramento's. While I was able to jump right in, and make a name for myself as an independent stylist in Sacramento, I could not do the same thing in Orange County. Apparently, the only method to successfully pave a path into the Los Angeles hair world is through an assisting program. Which, as a stylist who has made her own rules for the past year, is somewhat difficult to stomach. However, being the eternal optimist my mother raised me to be, I looked at this as an opportunity to advance my education, while getting paid. Also, working next to some of the most influential names in the industry is an almost guaranteed kick through the proverbial door. As long as I can prove myself.
So, now that the game plan has been established, and the move has been completed, the job hunt begins. I'm two days into it, with nothing more to show for it than a slightly smaller checking balance and a slightly fuller belly (what else do you do when you're unemployed?), and I realized where I wanted my hair career to take me. I consciously made the decision that I want to create fantasy hair, for runway shows, movies, theater, and for competition. And I would like to pioneer some sort of organization for training fantasy hair, and the ins and outs of the particular nice of the industry. That was my lightbulb moment, sitting on my couch, surfing craigslist, eating ice cream at 2:00PM, and watching a fantasy hair competition. I realized that was my calling within a calling. That realization took my fire for success, and coated it in aerosol hairspray. Burn, baby burn.
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