We asked our Vanity Managers what their favourite Aveda products are for this series of short blog posts. Here's Meghan's:
Blue Malva! Because it freshens up your blonde and makes your hair super soft.
You can grab either product at Sin 7 Salon, or order online through the above links or the "Shop Aveda" button to the upper right of this website- yes, Aveda now has online ordering and shipping for Canada!
Well, not just yet, but we should be ready to move in to our new location on the corner of Johnston and Pacific in a few short weeks - if all goes well, October 15 will be our first day taking appointments there! Everything's wrapped in plastic right now and awaiting a coat of paint, but we have been assured that it WILL, SOON, look like an actual hair salon. We can't wait! PS - Save the date, Sunday November 16 is our Grand Opening/Holiday Kick-Off Soiree. You don't want to miss this shindig, we promise.
When I was growing up, hair colour was no stranger in my house. I have vivid memories of my mom—clad in her signature root touchup uniform of a men's chambray shirt—leaning awkwardly over the bathroom sink squeezing thick goo from a little bottle onto her grey roots. I'd sit cross-legged on the floor, the smell of bleach permeating the room, and she'd tell me, “Kenz, don't ever colour your hair or you'll be stuck doing this for the rest of your life!” She swore she'd never allow me to alter my colour, praising my natural highlights and unique never-get-from-a-box tone.
But of course, as a teenage girl I hated my mousy brown/dirty blonde locks and after begging for months to dye my hair, she reluctantly agreed. At age 14, I donned her chambray and mom turned the colour tube to my own head for the very first time. The plan was to go a medium, all over brown. So, naturally, we'd picked out a store-bought box of a “medium brown.” As my mom applied the colour, I started panicking as the goop on my head darkened to black. “Don't worry,” she assured me. “It always looks darker at first but when you wash it out it will be fine.”
She was wrong. After washing and blowdrying my hair, we stared blankly in the mirror. My hair was black. Eventually the colour faded and I've dyed my hair a million different colours since then, from bleach blonde to red to almost black and back to blonde all over again. But my mother's words still rung in my ears: “You'll be stuck doing this for the rest of your life” and “You'll never get your natural colour back.” I didn't want that to be true so ten months ago I decided I was done with it. I began the process of getting my hair back to the colour my mom always adored in my adolescence. Here's the nutshell version of how this happened: