Hair

What is it with some people’s obsession with their hair? The British seem to be especially fond of it as I discovered during a year in England. The tiny town I lived in boasted no less than 37 hairdressers. There seemed to be one every 10 feet or so, but certainly around every possible corner.
Some of them adding to the tradition of naming your business with a pun in words. Just a bit up the road from my house there was a Chinese takeaway called “Wok this way” and our local, the “Nobody Inn”. And of course “Blade runners”, one of the many hairdressers in town.

O say, can you see my eyes,
if you can, then my hair’s too short.

I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I don’t care for my hair, because I do. I’m not one who says that you have to stay with the same hairdresser all your life. I cheated on a fair share of my respective hairdressers to be rewarded with a fresh approach to my hairstyle. In one case I wish I hadn’t attempted something new.

It was one of the 37 who called themselves “stylists” and I had the dubious pleasure to deal with a woman who worked as skilfully as a bulldozer. She went about her business with the enthusiasm she may have mustered for harvesting a bunch of chives in her front garden.
My mum taught me to endure pain without protesting. Be it a salty soup in a restaurant, a theatre seat behind a column or incapable service personnel. “Close your eyes and think of England” That’s what she would have told me, had she known anything about British history. You didn’t complain. You just endured it.

“This, too, shall pass.” is what I told myself. I didn’t complain, I sat there and let it pass. I had told her I wanted my hair to be spiky, but when she had finished I looked duller than a rat drenched in brine. I was even brave enough to pay for the crime the woman had done to my head. I gave my best impersonation of a happy customer and dashed home and up  two flights of stairs and into the bathroom.
I fetched the scissors and furiously started doing what the woman’s job should have been. I took away bits here and there and it’s probably only the fact that I had tried that before in days when I was used to postponing going to the hairdresser as long as I could due to monetary reasons, that I didn’t end up all bold. I was really pleased with the result.

But, kids: Do not try this at home! 🙂

I’m happy to say that meanwhile I have found the hairstylist of my dreams who provided me with the best hairstyle I’ve ever had and I plan to stay for a while.

Be spicy!
Ella, x