dueto

The very first job I applied for when I moved to NYC was for a receptionist position at a fancy hair salon on the Upper East Side of Manhattan called, Dueto. I thought the interview went pretty well and was following up every few days to see if they had made an offer for the job. After about 3 or 4 follow up calls, I gave up and assumed that they hired someone else. I then got the gig at Crema Lita and worked there for about a month.

Then, one day, I received a phone call from the salon asking me to come in for a second interview. I jumped at the chance as this position was paying more than what I was making serving soft serve. I went back for the second interview and the owner of the salon got right down to business. He asked if he could be honest with me (which I assured was my preference over the alternative) and told me that he hired someone else but it didn't work out. He said he knew I was smart enough for the job but didn't hire me because of the way that I looked.

Now, before you start judging him - allow me to provide you with a mental picture of young Megan in NYC. At 19, I never really wore make up, had just started understanding the need for plucking eyebrows, had super long frizzy hair which I had self-dyed with blond highlights and did not apply any sort of style to and admittedly, was not a very good dresser.

He said I have a proposition for you. He said: If you let my team and I do something with your hair, show you how to apply a bit of make up and take you shopping, I would like to offer you the position. I immediately agreed and said they could do whatever they wanted to me.

I provided Crema Lita with 2 weeks notice and then spent every free moment I had during those next two weeks at the salon. They cut off half my hair, removed the blond highlights, added some auburn streaks and began to teach me how I could blow dry my hair to make it look stylish. They sent me out with a stylist to go shopping in the Village and we only purchased black and white fashionable clothing.

I remember my first day of work, I woke up extra early and tried to do my own hair, apply make up and pick out a nice outfit. I got to work and they looked me over and told me to go wash my face and put my hair in the sink. They were going to re-do everything but, at least my outfit looked nice. From there, they told me to just come into work an hour early and I would get my hair and make up done by one of the stylists. So for the next year and half, I did not wash my own hair and was fortunate enough to enjoy free hair cuts/color and styling.

Although this story sounds like a chapter out of "Devil Wears Prada", I really loved working here and I feel as if I was meant to work here as it was an important step in my adaptation to living in NYC. I quickly became friendly with everyone that worked there and they adopted me into their family. The owner, Julio, in particular, was so nice to me and I was so blessed to have met him and worked for him when I did.

I worked here until one day, a client at the salon offered me my next job. Stay tuned for the next Previous Jobs post.