Hair today, gone tomorrow.
As a child, I used to be enjoy getting my hair cut. I quite liked just letting my mind wander while someone fussed over my head. Then I hit puberty and I started worrying about looking good, rather than just having shorter hair, and it became a whole new experience. No one, in the whole history of hairdressing, has ever been completely satisfied with their haircut. We all say we are. When the gentlemen waves his mirror at the back of your head and says, "how's that", we all say "that's great" even though we're all secretly hoping it'll look better when we wash it later. Outside of the shop is a cluster of recent customers, staring at their reflection in the window and trying to muss it up with their fingers in the hope it'll improve matters.
I often wonder if things would be better if I booked a haircut, rather than simply finding the nearest walk-in-barbers and hoping they'll know what to do with my head. This seems like a secret world, though. A world of secret code phrases, and hidden knowledge that must have been instilled into every woman at around the time I was busy playing computer games, but seems to have passed men by. For a start, before I can even select a time, I have to choose a stylist. I don't know which stylist I want. If I look at their profiles on the website, they all seem to be different ways of describing someone who cuts hair. I want my hair cut, so that's a good start, but it doesn't really help in choosing Arlene over Gillian. I could go by price, but do I go with the most expensive, on the basis that they're probably the best, or with the cheapest, on the grounds that the expensive ones seem to specialise in colouring and styling, neither of which I want and probably indicates they're more used to women's cuts than my short back and sides.
I've tried the Turkish barbers before, and they're great if you're happy with your hair so short you could pass for the love child of Bruce Willis and Jason Statham. Alternatively, there's supercuts, which has the benefit of being so cheap that you don't really mind having to pay someone else to 'fix' it afterwards.
In the end, I'll probably just go to the first place I walk past when my hair gets so long I can hide lego bricks in it. After all, in the end what does it matter?
It's only hair.
I often wonder if things would be better if I booked a haircut, rather than simply finding the nearest walk-in-barbers and hoping they'll know what to do with my head. This seems like a secret world, though. A world of secret code phrases, and hidden knowledge that must have been instilled into every woman at around the time I was busy playing computer games, but seems to have passed men by. For a start, before I can even select a time, I have to choose a stylist. I don't know which stylist I want. If I look at their profiles on the website, they all seem to be different ways of describing someone who cuts hair. I want my hair cut, so that's a good start, but it doesn't really help in choosing Arlene over Gillian. I could go by price, but do I go with the most expensive, on the basis that they're probably the best, or with the cheapest, on the grounds that the expensive ones seem to specialise in colouring and styling, neither of which I want and probably indicates they're more used to women's cuts than my short back and sides.
I've tried the Turkish barbers before, and they're great if you're happy with your hair so short you could pass for the love child of Bruce Willis and Jason Statham. Alternatively, there's supercuts, which has the benefit of being so cheap that you don't really mind having to pay someone else to 'fix' it afterwards.
In the end, I'll probably just go to the first place I walk past when my hair gets so long I can hide lego bricks in it. After all, in the end what does it matter?
It's only hair.
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