INVEST IN YOURSELF

"Invest in yourself." It's a big Industry thing. It's a catchphrase. It applies to all walks of professional life.

The Fab Five would espouse this as buying a new suit, getting a new hairdo, redecorating your house.

The speaking-motivationally types would see this as attending a self-improvement seminar (one of theirs, naturally.)

The Hippie Love Gurus think it means taking time out to create a quiet, sacred space and give yourself some self-love time-- the kind that includes chamomile somewhere.

Whatever it means to you, take some time and do it.

As an actor, quite a lot of investing in myself involves either my appearance or my talent. Last year I took some courses in voice-over, and audition techniques, as well as How to Speak American. (No, that's not a joke: Canadians do sound quite a bit different from Americans.)

Therefore, when I had time (and money) to consider another Upgrade (What am I now, Agent M 5.2 or something?) I chose to this time invest in an new look.

My current head shot is 2 years old. That's WAY too old when you're supposed to keep your look CURRENT. So, I reasoned, it was time for a change.

Let me caution the men out there, since I doubt the women would need to be told this. If you are paying fifteen dollars or under for a haircut, then you are not getting your hair cut at a place where you WANT them to create your new look for you. You are playing Russian Roulette with your hair-- DO NOT DO THIS. Find a salon. Thirty dollars is a good price for a new look. (Once it's established, do what I do-- go back to the cheap places and say "See this? Keep it looking like this.")

For those guys out there who are "short-back-and-sides" types, don't talk to me. I can't help you.

So I went to just such a salon as I have described above; one of these places that doesn't just cut hair, they are an actual Day Spa.

Day Spa means: Tanning beds, manicurists, waxers, massage...the Total Groom Package. And I signed up for not quite the works.

I had my eyebrows waxed. For those of you that know me, you can see that the future held Gandalf for me. And cool as Lord of the Rings is right now, that's just not the way I wanted to go. Also, to some extent every man suffers from encroaching Unibrow-- you blond bastards can get away with folks not noticing as much-- and that needs to be taken care of as well.

So they put hot wax on my forehead, and RIPPED the unwanted hairs out. It's actually not that painful-- and the parts that are slightly ouchie are over in a flash. And they sculpted the shape, neatened them up a bit. My only stipulation was that I didn't want to look like either Joan Crawford or Divine.

Then came the hair. I'm regularly cast in thirtysomething "Dad" roles now, which is fine and dandy because I AM a thirtysomething Dad, but we all know that Young and Pretty sells. So I told them I wanted to look twentysomething without looking like some pathetic white guy trying to look "hip."

We talked style. We looked through magazines, my stylist and I. Checked out some celebrities' 'dos. I picked one, I forget whose it was, and then we talked color highlights. We fused caramel with copper to create an electricity that wasn't too brassy.

I bought product. Head and Shoulders may do the trick, but it really isn't good for hair in the long run. So I bought a shampoo and a conditioner. And, most importantly, I asked my stylist how I, the Guy at Home, could do my OWN hair at home and have it look salon-good. She introduced me to styling CLAY-- like pomade only solid. You warm it up in your hands and apply it to DRY hair. (Wet hair only dilutes your product, kids.)

I thanked her for a lovely day and paid for my hair, waxing and three products.

The bill came to just under TWO HUNDRED DOLLARS.

I was in shock. I expected more like eighty. But no, the highlights ALONE were seventy dollars. The wax, about seventeen. The cut was thirty. And the products were fifteen apiece while the clay was thirty dollars.

Shit, I said to myself.

I was still dazed when I came home and confessed to my wife how much I had spent ON MY HAIR. I mean, I could have bought a new leather jacket for two hundred dollars, right? God, what was I thinking?

I slept on it. And the next morning I put it into perspective. First of all, as a self-employed type, I get to write everything off. Actors get to write off cosmetic changes for roles or professional goals like a new head shot (which I can also write off.)

Secondly, I hadn't SPENT two hundred dollars. I had INVESTED it. I was creating a new look which, hopefully, will open me up to a more marketable age range other than "Chevy Chase" or "Dan Aykroyd." BOTH of whom are way chubbier than I like to be associated with, thanks.

It's not something I will make a habit of. Like I said above, I can now get my usual trimming done at a less ostentatious grooming establishment, one with "CUTS" in the name.

But after the shock wore off, I have to tell you something: It felt pretty damn good to have put that money into ME. Into self-improvement, even if all it gave me was a new look and two separate and distinct eyebrows.

Actually, that's not true: The new look is not all it gave me. It also granted me a new PERSPECTIVE on myself. I can be a person who is more than that guy who was always doing the same thing with his look. I can be adventurous. I can be, dare I say it, ALLURING. I dressed up for Mrs M. the day after the cut and she had to agree that this husband guy who'd been hanging around was suddenly pretty damn HOT in his size 36 jeans and tight black sweater.

I never thought of myself as a vain person, but hearing THAT from someone who's grown accustomed to my face was just electrifying. I was old and busted-- and now, the New Hotness.

Two hundred dollars is still a lot of money to me. But after the shock wore off, I've come to believe that it was indeed Worth It.

Go crazy once in a while and it might pay off-- especially if you Invest In Yourself.

Posted by Agent M at December 19, 2003 04:53 PM