What is a DevaCut? I Tried It.

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What is a DevaCut? If you asked me two years ago I would’ve looked at you like you were insane. Then I discovered the internet and realized people would not stop shut up about this haircut. After a 12-hour YouTube review binge watch, I made an appointment. Here, *cue the Law & Order music* is my story…

The salon told me I had to arrive with my hair in its natural state, with absolutely no product. I panicked. Did these people have any idea what I’d look like? The notion was insane, but the woman on the phone assured me this was the way to go. These stylists, the “curl professionals,” knew what they were doing, right? Er—right.

The big day came. I let my hair air dry sans cream, oil, or gel. Then spent ten minutes digging up the biggest hood I could find. I had to steal a sweater from my brother. Because let’s be real—I was definitely hiding my hair (and my face).

I revealed the curly beast upon arrival and was sure I’d be greeted with shrieks of complete horror. Instead, they smiled as if all was totally normal (people I looked like a freak) and led me to a chair. The first ten minutes of the appointment were spent talking (therapy anyone?). We discussed my hair (insane), my life (chaotic), and my personality (control freak).

Then before the cut started, my stylist recapped our chat, confirming that I wanted to retain my length (PLEASE!!!), still occasionally wear my hair straight (*gasp*), and that my last cut left me with hair “shelves” (*shudder*).

I expected to be lead to a sink, but instead my stylist started cutting. Wait—what? He explained, “When the hair is wet it’s weighed down, so you can’t see the true curl pattern or how the hair naturally sits.” I immediately thought about how much longer my hair appears when it’s wet and a light bulb went off. “When we do a dry cut, with no tension, we cut the curl exactly where it lives on your head. We connect lines visually instead of literally.” Well, that makes sense.

I watched curiously as my hair was cut at different angles, creating “elevations” (a fancy term for layering) to help guide where my curls would sit. By the end I was nervous, my hair was larger than life –too much touching lead to WAAAAY too much frizz. But, there was a glimmer of hope: I could literally see the shape, and it was not a triangle. So that was a good sign, right??

After some heavy breathing, I was finally guided to a sink. As my hair was cleansed, I was coached through exactly how to care for my curls in the shower. I should probably preface with the fact that I have been using No-Poo for ten years – I am not new here. But still, I found this eye-opening. I was handed a mirror so I could see the entire process. My stylist explained how to scrub No-Poo both on and off of the scalp (guess who was doing neither?), and that the product had to be finger-combed through my hair. Before conditioner, my hair was tangle free and I could see and feel the natural slip and shine.

Then things got weird.

While my hair was still soaking wet, they had me sit up and then flip my head over. Water was dripping everywhere. My stylist put a towel on the floor (which I can only assume was to prevent the formation of a personal indoor pool) and then began to apply styling products to my soaking wet hair. “It’s best to apply products when your hair is this wet, we actual recommend keeping your stylers in the shower.” Um – okay, that’s normal. (No it’s not.) The styling process was finished with a microfiber DevaTowel – which helped to blot out some of the excess water. Then I sat under a dryer, and had to wait, wait, and oh yeah – wait.

I came out of the dryer and was…shocked and slightly terrified. My curls were uniform, polished, and um … crunchy. I was the token 90’s blue hair gel come back from the dead and I was petrified. And then here comes my stylist all happy and excited, and meanwhile, I’m thinking about all the ways I could kill him escape.

He didn’t say a word, and his hands immediately went into my hair and shook out my curls – and I took a MAJOR sigh of relief. The quick shake up was the equivalent of a magic wand. He explained, “When certain stylers dry they create a cast because they’re silicone free, you just have to break it to reveal touchable curls.” My results? Perfect, soft, healthy curls. Was this seriously my hair? Was this possible? How did this happen? I must have blinked and missed the magic.

For the first time in my life I was my own #hairgoal and it felt ah-mazing. I may or may not have strutted out the salon feeling like Bey. Which, let’s be honest, was a first in this curly girls life. Most of my hair cuts result in tears, and trauma, and more tears. But this time I got off easy. I finally understood why people wouldn’t shut up. Is it seriously this good for everyone who walks in? Blasphemy I tell you. Blasphemy.