My Gene Juarez Blow-Out

Ignore the fly-aways and the tee-shirt. I'm a tomboy at heart—but now, after trying the GJ Express Blowdry, a tomboy with a blow-out.
I'm kind of a tomboy. Have we talked about this? It's kind of odd, being obsessed with that one Celine bag and French designer Christophe LeMaire, and then being totally ambivalent about moisturizer and Alaia heels.
And blow-outs.
For the most part, I've always been totally ambivalent about blow-outs, and I was always convinced that my hair isn't long enough to benefit much from one.
But then I was persuaded to try Gene Juarez's new GJ Express Blowdry and, well, if I'm not obsessed at least I understand what I was missing.
I tried the service on the afternoon of a wedding that I had been waiting all summer for. I didn't want to spend all day downtown, and the 30-minute 'express' element of the $35 deal more or less held true. (Be realistic about check-in and check-out time if you're in a hurry or just really looking forward to getting home and finally putting on a dress you bought in April to wear in August.)
Typically my hair is fuzzy and unkempt, and I try to convince myself that it's a look. In reality, I'm just totally guilty of that lazy Seattle wash-and-wear thing. But after a really, really good shampoo session/scalp massage, some choice product (it was Oribe; I am too ambivalent to recall the rest), and a skillfully yielded dryer, my look was sleek and chic—somewhere between purposefully severe and effortlessly stylish.
If I may say so myself.
More importantly, it looked that way for days. I didn't wash it for... well, I stopped counting. I finally understood, firsthand, why so many of my girlfriends get blow-outs before vacations or big events, and why they look so darn good for days afterward.
The express service differs from Gene Juarez's previously offered blow-outs in that you cannot request a stylist. By allowing the salons to make the stylist decision for you, they're keeping everyone busy and running efficiently, and you're saving a few bucks.
Call it beginner's luck of the draw, but I was assigned to a perfectly lovely stylist called Rayna (some day let's talk about why so many hair stylists seem to only have one name) who completely understood that I wanted not a Anna Wintour round bob but a more updated Louis Brooks pin-straight thing.
I almost don't recognize the voice in my head wondering when my next night out is, and who my next express service stylist will be.