Early in his career, Justin Timberlake couldn't afford the good shampoo.
I came freakishly close to spending $39 on a bottle of shampoo yesterday. It would have been a crazy source of angst for me and was likely to cause me some serious stomach upset. I can’t believe how close I came.
It all started when I visited my sister Kathy in Cleveland a couple of weekends ago. I never realized how dry her family’s hair is until I got in her shower and started reading the shampoo bottles. She had a dozen or more bottles of shampoo, conditioner and other hair products in the corner shower shelf and every one of them promised to hydrate, moisturize and nourish my hair. Kathy’s family had perfectly nice, moist hair, as far as I could tell. I had no idea. I had a dickens of a time picking a shampoo, but I settled on a beautiful lavender bottle of Pureology.
Pureology promised to penetrate my hair fibers so deeply, that my hair would be moisturized from within, which seems almost wizardly. It also would nourish my hair with soy, oat and wheat proteins, which sounded delicious. While it was at it, it would guarantee that my hair color would not fade and would be protected from the sun’s harmful UVA and UVB rays. (Possibly UVC, too, but I’m not 100 percent sure about that.) It would do all that without using harsh, color-stripping sulfates. It is also salt free. And it added rose, peppermint and green tea just for fun.
How could I not pick Pureology out of the smorgasbord of hair care products in my sister’s shower? So I squirted some in my hand and applied. I lathered. I rinsed. I did not repeat. And it’s a good thing, because I now know I used up about $4.90 worth of shampoo in that little squirt.
I must admit, it was about the loveliest shampoo I had ever used. I even went whole hog and used the Pureology Hydrate conditioner and I don’t even want to know how much that cost.
For three mornings, I used a rich person’s hair products with the wild abandon of a recent lottery winner. I felt like a million bucks. My hair looked great, smelled even better, and even though I don’t have a problem with dry hair, I’m certain my hair was in no danger of getting dried out, brittle or flaky.
“It’s really expensive,” my sister said when I casually mentioned how much I loved her shampoo and that I was thinking of getting some of my own.
I thought she meant it was more than the $1.79 Suave in the "family value size" bottle that has been my speed for years.
When we got back home, my daughter was going into CVS and asked me if I needed anything.
“Yeah, check out the price on that Pureology shampoo. If it’s not too much, get me a bottle.” I told her if she was in doubt about what was too expensive and what I’d be OK with, to call me.
“The Pureology shampoo was $39,” she told me when she got home. “I figured you wouldn’t want it.”
She figured right. Who says daughters can’t read their mothers’ minds by 18? There is no way in hell I’d pay $39 for 10.1 ounces of shampoo, even if it does make me feel like the Breck girl.
It must just be me. I went online to find someone else who is appalled at the price of this shampoo and could only find rave reviews. One site pointed out that “it’s 100 percent vegan.” Another site identified the smell that I loved so much is a signature scent of ylang ylang, bergamot, anise and patchouli. And, what, ground up diamonds? Shredded pages from an original Guttenberg Bible?
I’d like to publicly apologize to my sister for using up so much of her pricey shampoo. To even the score, when she visits me next, I’ll have to take her to The Breakers for Sunday brunch. Because in our guest room shower, there’s nothing but Suave.