In the past, I have had two amazingly brilliant hair dressers who have never put a hair on my head wrong. Sandy used to come on a Wednesday, to Nanna’s house, to cut our hair. Sadly, Sandy went. After that, I would occasionally visit a hairdressing shop, but otherwise, I let my hair do it’s own thing. I’ve never particularly enjoyed parting with cash. After paying Sandy’s cheap rates, I couldn’t ever understand why I would want to dig so deep for someone to hack a bit of hair off my head.
Following my bone marrow transplant (where I briefly lost my hair) I turned to a friendly neighbourhood face – Trish. She looked after my re-growing hair and kept it tidy for me. Well, tidy-ish. She didn’t have a magic wand, but she did her best. My new hair had a bit of a wave and was a bit thicker than my old hair; in fact, a lot of the time, my hair looked like a straggly mess of rat tail, straight bits and curls. I vividly remember getting ready to go out with my brother and my grandparents. I raced down the stairs, having left “getting ready” until the last minute, only for my Grandad and brother to ask (in unison) if I was going to brush my hair before we left. I felt insulted: I had just brushed my hair!!!
My hair is naturally messy. I put it in a clip, bits fall out. I put it in a bunch, it looks lumpy. I plait it and it falls apart. It is just a mess.
Trish had to give up hairdressing, so I made a conscious effort to go to the hair dressers once a year – around Easter time. You see, it ties in with eye test, dentist, haematology, etc… I just add “hair cut” to the list… I visited a hair dressers in my home town and I have used a local one for the last two years. However, this is the first hair cut in four years that I’ve actually liked. I’m pleased with it. I asked “how much is that then?”, expecting to hear “£25” (or thereabouts). Then the sweetest sound came to my ears: “that’ll be £12, please”.
£12? For this?
I showed the hairdresser a picture of the style I want – it’s how I have previously had my hair. Short. Low maintenance. And she came up trumps:
I hate going to the hair dressers for many reasons. I find it rather intimidating. When it is in my own home, it is more relaxed – which is why I turned to Trish when my hair was growing back; she came to my home where there was no intimidation. There weren’t mirrors everywhere. I couldn’t see what she was doing and I didn’t need to look at myself.
It’s not just the intimidation, though. It’s the fear of the haircut not going right. That’s why I limit this to once a year. I know that it is, essentially, just hair, but it is hair that I have to wear on my head, outside, where people can see it. I know that hair will grow back, but that’s not really the point, is it?
I just need to point out that I’m not so vain that I think that everyone is looking at my head. But, an error might make me look even more ridiculous than I think I already do a majority of the time…
It’s also the small talk. The probing questions where I give careful answers – I’m quite savvy. I know that hair dressers like to gossip. I just don’t give them much to go by. Actually, I think I tell my blog more than I would tell a hair dresser. I have to answer the “so, you live with your partner then?” No. I live alone. “Do you have a partner?” No. “Kids?” Well…… I live alone………. “Awwwww, your time will come”. Inside, I’m screaming JUST STFU AND CUT MY HAIR. Outside, I’m smiling at my inside voice, being careful not to nod. “Do you have holiday plans?” No. “Do you watch [TV show]?” No. “Do you know any other words?” Not really…
Anyway. I’m pleased with todays haircut. My hairdresser was like all the others – asking lots of questions. However, she has done a fantastic job. I can’t believe that for the last 2 years I have paid almost £30 for a bad hair cut when a few doors away could have cut it for less than half the price!