Read an Excerpt: 'Dump 'Em'

March 27, 2009 — -- When you have a relationship with someone for a long time, letting go can be tough.

Finding the words, standing by your feelings, doing what you think is right -- the dumper has to search for corrects way to do it and the courage to follow through.

Luckily, Jodyne L. Speyer figured out the many, many ways to break it off with just about anyone, from your best friend to your hairdresser, and is sharing her dumping advice in her book "Dump 'Em."

Read an excerpt of the book below and then check out more excerpts at the "Good Morning America" Library.

THE HAIRDRESSER

Signs It's Time to Dump Your Hairdresser

Your smock is covered in dandruff . . . and it's not yours.

With each snip of her scissors, she grunts like a female tennisplayer.

She's still stuck in the '80s. Who wants a perm?

When you walk in, her last appointment is leaving in tears.

You go in for a bang trim and leave missing an eyebrow.

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Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

While attending college in New York City, I got my hair cut at atrendy little boutique in the East Village. My hairdresser, Gina,was a plain Jane from Staten Island, and that was exactly whatI liked about her. Unlike a lot of my previous hairstylists—whopretended to listen while they plotted to give me (usually successfully)the haircut they wanted—Gina actually listened to meand gave me the cut I asked for—which is why I was devastatedwhen she told me that she was leaving for six months to go on aspirit ual journey to India.

Within days of returning from her trip, I made an appointmentat her apartment. Graduation was coming up and I wanteda new look. I raced up her stairwell two steps at a time, excitedfor the hairstyle that would take me to the next stage of my life:my career.

As I reached the top of her staircase, I nearly choked on theheavy cloud of incense smoke that invaded my lungs. The smellof Nag Champa overwhelmed me. Waving it away, I pushed openGina's front door and entered what I can only describe as somekind of medieval dungeon fi lled with giant candelabras, enormouscrosses, leering gargoyles, and black sheets draped overhuge gothic columns. I should have turned around and left then;the smell of incense makes me want to vomit (I already had, justa tiny bit). Not to mention that goth scares me. It was so darkthat I could barely see my feet—and if I couldn't see, how wouldGina be able to cut my hair?

"Hello?" I shouted. Out of the darkness came Gina, fully coveredin piercings, hair in long dreads, and wearing a black, freeflowing, Stevie Nicks–style dress. Who was this woman? Thiswas not my Gina from Staten Island—Coney Island, perhaps.

What exactly did they teach her in that ashram? She made hermove toward me.

"Jodyne! My queen! At last! I've waited my whole life foryou!" Then she broke into a Mary J. Blige song. "My life. My life.My life. In the sunshine. If you look at my life, and see what I'veseen." India had apparently turned Gina into a hippie goth—agippie?—but that still didn't explain why she was singing MaryJ. Blige to me. "Let's go, mamma!" she said as she grabbed myhand and led me to her sink.

My whole plan of talking to her first, going over my hair—thestyle, the number of inches and layers—all of it washed rightdown that sink of hers. I completely shut down. To make mattersworse, I also couldn't see, because I had made the mistake ofwearing my glasses instead of my contacts that day. Gina hadtaken my glasses and set them on top of one of her scary gargoyles.I was having a total out- of- body experience. I watched hercut my hair, was engaged in conversation, yet I don't rememberanything I said. What I do remember is her saying things like, "Itotally get it. I so know what to do with you. Oh, I just love givingpeople new looks. You're gonna love it!"—and then anotherMary J. Blige song. "Ohhhhh, sweet thing. Don't you know you'remy everything. Woe oh, hooooh, sweet thing."

Fast- forward twenty minutes. My smock came off, and I wasstaring at myself in the mirror. All I could see was a blurry cloudof incense smoke. I frantically grabbed my glasses, almost knockingthe gargoyle off the table (which I suspect was actually a coffin). "Well, what do you think, rock goddess?" asked Gina. Staringback at me in the mirror was a complete stranger. I was speechless.I blinked my eyes fi ve times to make sure it was me. It wasme alright; me wearing a mullet. That's right, a mullet—I couldn'tget away from that mirror fast enough.

I ran down Prince Street at lightning speed, pushing peopleout of my way in order to get home as quickly as possible. It's abird, it's a plane, it's—a mullet? As I sprinted past a crowd ofpeople planted in front of Dean and Deluca, someone shouted,"Hey, Joan Jett!" And I'm pretty sure I also heard someone say,"Look, it's Andrew Ridgeley!" For those who don't know AndrewRidgeley, he was one- half of the musical group Wham, along withGeorge Michael. He also sported a mullet.

For the next week, I refused to go outside. I covered all themirrors in my apartment and sat shiva. My friends stopped byand offered their condolences. They suggested that I go back toGina to have her fi x my hair before graduation. But how could I?

That woman was not my Gina; something had happened to herin India. I called my parents and told them not to come to graduation.That phone call didn't go so well. My father pointed outthat when parents fund their children's ridiculously expensiveeducations, it automatically gives them the right to attend theirgraduation ceremonies. They were coming, like it or not.

The day of graduation, Gina left a message on my cell, wishingme luck and hoping to hear how I liked the new me. I nevercalled her back. More calls followed. I erased each message unheard.

Apparently, the new me was a coward. My graduation wassaved by my fashionable mother, who brought with her an assortmentof scarves left over from her '70s Rhoda days. I hadnever been a scarf girl, but these were really something: all vintage,all fabulous. Luckily, the scarf was a huge hit at graduation.People not only asked where I had bought it, but wanted to takea picture of me. For the next six months, which was as long as ittook for me to grow out my hair, I was a fashion icon of downtownNew York. And Gina? I never saw her again, but I think ofher every time I hear a Mary J. Blige song or see someone with amullet.

What I Learned

I should have called Gina back, or at least picked up the phonewhen she called. It certainly would have made me feel better—after all these years, I still feel guilty about the way I treated her.She went out of her way for me that day and I bolted, out of herapartment and out of her life forever. There was talk about meetingfor a drink so I could hear about her trip, but my childishbehavior put an end to that.

One of the most valuable things I learned while writing thischapter is how important it is to be prepared before going to yourhairdresser, especially if you're going to a new one. From cuttingout pages from magazines to bringing in personal photographs ofthe hairstyle you want, it's up to you to communicate what youwant to your hairdresser. I spoke to a woman in Manhattan whostops women on the street and asks them if she can take a pictureof their haircut to show her hairdresser. Remember, youridea of what a person's haircut looks like might be totally differentthan your hairdresser's. Thinking back to Gina, I went to herapartment with nothing in hand. I put all the power in her handsto change my look just days before graduation. That was my mistake.

While it's important to listen to your hairdresser's suggestionsabout haircuts, at the end of the day, you're the one wearing the'do—so speak up! Tell your hairdresser what kind of person youare: chill, high maintenance, conservative, liberal, rocker? Don'tleave her guessing. A number of people I spoke to for this chapterconfessed to being bullied by their stylists and ended up gettingcuts that they hated. When I asked them whether they said anythingto their hairdressers, very few said that they had. The reason?

They were afraid to hurt their hairdressers' feelings. Butyou're paying for the haircut you want, not the haircut she wantsyou to have. Others said that it took them months to book theappointment with the new and hot stylist, so they didn't want toinsult her. The best piece of advice I got while researching thischapter was how many salons offer free consultations. This is agreat way of fi guring out whether or not you like a potential hairdresser.Pay attention to whether or not she pays attention to you.Make sure she asks you the right questions, and be sure to tellher as much as you can about you and your hair. If you don't likethe vibe, don't make an appointment—or be prepared to walkout with a mullet.

Laying the Groundwork

Make sure you have realistic expectations of what your haircan and cannot do. If you don't know, ask your hairdresser.

Start emotionally disengaging from your current hairdresser.Your goal is to slowly shift your relationship to a less personal,more professional one so that dumping her will be easier.

Give your hairdresser a warning. Point out what you don'tlike about your hair. Be specifi c: Do you hate the length?Troubled by the color? Lost in the layers? Tell her.

Find a new hairstylist. Stop people on the street who havehairstyles you like. Pick up beauty and hair magazines, suchas Allure or Celebrity Hairstyles. If you need help, check outwww.StylistMatch.com. The Web site has a search engine thatfi nds hairdressers in your area who specialize in your hairtype. When possible, they also provide you with pictures of localsalons.

Call salons around town and take advantage of free consultations.

Rehearse what you're going to say to your current hairdresser.

How to Dump 'Em

Tip: For those of you who've become friends with yourhairdresser, don't dump her by not showing up again. Itmay seem like the least confrontational route, but can easilylead to a highly charged run- in when you least expectit—at the market, the mall, your favorite restaurant, orthe fragrance counter at Barneys. This happened to mewith my old hairdresser, who was totally unpredictablewith her cuts. There I was, alone and vulnerable, just wantinga new scent, when she cornered me and demanded thatI tell her why I stopped going to her. She felt totally abandonedby me and was afraid that she had done somethingwrong. I was completely caught off guard and stutteredmy way out of it, but I was so distraught that I ended upavoiding Barneys for a year. If you're not ready to speakhonestly with your hairdresser, at the very least make upa white lie so that she doesn't feel abandoned.

Talk to the Hair (Stylist)

People—especially women—spend a great deal of time at the hairsalon. A cut and color can easily take three hours. High- endhairstylists cater to their clients by offering them espressodrinks, wine, champagne, croissants, etc. It feels good to be takencare of by someone who wants nothing more than to make youlook your very best. I've felt intoxicated upon leaving a salon; thatcould have been the alcohol, but still. To have a pair of professionalhands work their magic and transform us into our mostglamorous selves is pretty great. But all hairdressers go throughrough patches, and some of them let their personal lives affecttheir work. If you've already laid the groundwork, you've beenworking on disengaging from your hairdresser. Remember, dumpingher is business, not personal.

STEPS

1. Stop by or call your hairdresser.

2. Acknowledge your discomfort: "This is an awkward conversationto have."

3. Identify the issues you've been having with your cuts."As you know I haven't been wild about ______ these pastfew months."

4. Dump her. "We've tried a number of things to make thiswork, but I'm still not getting the results I was hoping for.This is diffi cult to say, but it's time for me to check out anotherhairdresser."

5. Allow your hairdresser to respond. Some might let theiregos come into play (not your problem!)—others mightask for another chance. Think twice. If you decide togive her one more shot, make it clear that you mean onemore haircut, period. The best- case scenario is that yourhairdresser will support your decision. You might be surprisedby how many hairstylists will be okay with youleaving. Most genuinely want you to be happy.

6. Thank her for everything.

Musical Saloon Chairs

Many of the people I interviewed for this chapter had questionsabout how to handle the awkwardness involved when someonewants to see another hairstylist at the same salon. I spoke witha number of professionals, and most agreed that the way tohandle it is to make your fi rst appointment on your currenthairdresser's day off. When you sit at the new hairdresser'schair, speak up and let her know that this is a trial appointment.

If the new haircut is a success, leave a note for your oldhairdresser at her station saying, "Stopped in and had my hairdone with _____. Thanks for everything but I've decided to makethe change to her." Then the next time you see your old hairdresser,make a point of going over and acknowledging her. Itdoesn't have to be much, just a quick wave hello. The one secondof awkwardness will pass quickly, making for a much easiertransition to the new stylist, and before you know it, the discomfortwill disappear.

1- 800- FLOWERS.COM

Still not sure how to dump your hairdresser? Send her flowers.

What you can write:

Dear ______,Thank you for all your wonderful haircuts throughout theyears. I've decided to take my hair in a new direction.Sincerely,______________

The Gift That Keeps on Giving

Still looking for an easy way out? Dump your hairdresser bytelling her that you were given a very generous gift certificate toanother salon. Mention a big promotion at work, a milestone birthday,or a wedding anniversary.

Bonus: This option allows you to keep the salon door openshould you wish to return in the future.

Locks of Love

Guess who's growing their hair out? You are! Tell your hairdresserthat you've committed to donating your hair to Locks ofLove, a nonprofit organization that gives hairpieces to disadvantagedchildren under the age of eigh teen who are suffering frommedical hair loss. The minimum hair length it accepts is teninches. Another option is to mention how much you love, love,love Rapunzel's or Fabio's hair, and wish you had long hair. Tellher that you've made the decision to just go for it—grow it outonce and for all. If she offers to trim it for you, let her know thather prices are too high for what you need right now. She shouldn'texpect to see you for years.

Lice, Lice, Lice, Yeah

Tell your hairdresser that you've picked up a bad case of head liceand had to shave your hair off. The good news is that you actuallylike it and are trying to decide whether to keep it that short orgrow it out; either way, you won't be seeing her for a while.