Once upon a time, I was blessed with a dear friend who also happened to be my hair stylist.  Sweet Jen – she is just one of those people who just radiates natural talent and is so hip it’s really not fair to the rest of us.  For a long time I considered my hair my “calling card” – it was one of the only things that didn’t require a diet or a gym membership to maintain.  If you have good hair, you have good hair. We moved and it’s no secret that one of my greatest fears was never being able to replace her (as a stylist of course, because she will always occupy a special place in my heart as my friend and sweet sister).  After trying to scrimp and save a little money over the past year – even entering into the world of box color, which for blondes can be an utter failure – let’s just say you get what you pay for. I have always told Vann that if money grew on trees I would never wash my own hair again.  One blow-out on Tuesday and one on Friday, and BAM – sexy bedhead 24-7 – no muss, no fuss. Well – I think I’ve found my fairy godmother again – in the form of my new friend Amanda.  She just opened a salon/boutique/darling jewelbox of a space called The Style House, and I think I’m in love.  Here’s how my morning went: Check-in, coffee.  Browse through boutique, coffee. Show the amazing Anne my collection of Jennifer Aniston pics.  Must have face-framing highlights and yoga-ed body (although, sadly, Anne can’t help me with that one): (Really???!!!  I mean, take THAT Brangelina!!!!!!!!) Highlights, cut, more coffee, much squealing. Curling iron instruction, waves.  And Voila! Sometimes it takes an army to make a Mama feel like a million bucks.  And today, I did.  I felt like Cinderella at the ball. Well, not really.  But maybe after a little roll in the hay. Sexy bedhead, get it??? Oh, and then I got a brow and (gasp!!) lip wax (shhhhhh!!!!!!), had a lovely catered lunch, and will probably never wash my own hair again. Run, don’t walk, to The Style House!!