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Does your hairdresser’s own hairstyle frighten you?
Why...
Do so many of the top hairdressers have hairstyles that are better suited to Halloween Night? And who cuts and styles their hair? I used to wonder if it was students let loose on their teacher, but then would a plastic surgeon use his face as a student’s first experiment? Nope….. so it must be a conscious decision. Yikes!
On top of my blind trust that a stylist can cut hair normally, (despite the evidence on his or her head to the contrary), nearly every time my hair was cut, it was cut too short. Surely even Haircutting for Dummies must suggest hairdressers should undercut not overcut hair so the customer comes back sooner? My current salon however are perfect….. (I know they read the blog)!
For a cutter, I suppose, their job has a satisfying finality to it. It’s not like a customer can look at the reflection and go:
“Nah, I liked it better before, can you collect up all those hairs and re-attach them.” Maybe that’s why they are supremely confident.
...and another thing
Next on the bullying list are over coiffed and manicured sales assistants in department stores who insist that the wrong size fit you. The only reason the suit “Fits you like a glove, Sir” is because it sticks out in five places? I am so week and mealy mouthed when it comes to people kissing up to me in order to make a commission, I usually nod in agreement. These people can be quite insistent. When someone at Harrabs suggests I need to freshen up my normal wardrobe, it is not an excuse to pretend I am twenty years younger and so need to wear multi-coloured shoes (Cole Haan, what were you thinking?) If I want to look like Fisbo the Clown I will go to a Modern Family TV reunion party. I also don’t need to be given trousers so tight you can see the tattoo on my butt, nor shirts whose colours shout so loud I would not be able to wear one in the library. And no, Sir does not need ostrich feathered gloves or a vicuna codpiece.
...and another thing
I do always try and buy my fruit and vegetables from our local market. The quality is usually pretty good and the prices are simply amazing when compared to even the big supermarkets. Then there is the cheery cockney banter, cajoling me into buying an extra bowl of Irish fruit (potatoes).The only thing that has me questioning my choice was last week I saw one of the stall owners in his Aston Martin. I mean I am thrilled he’s doing well but I just get a nagging doubt that maybe the Tax Inspector might want to look a bit deeper into the apples and pears business!
...and another thing
I can only breathe a deep sigh of relief that the internet has killed off the most intimidating species of all…the record shop assistant. I never bought a record in my youth when the server did not sneer at my choice of music…or would have liked to, but was prevented because his top lip was pierced by a dragoon of safety pins. I wonder where all those people have gone now? Some have obviously matured into Parking Wardens or Immigration Officers but I guess some are at Amazon. There they can shake their head in dismay as Jo Schmo from Omaha orders another George Foreman Grill instead of the infinitely better Casta tempanyaki grill… a snip at $10,000. Talking of a snip maybe some became hairdressers as they always had scary hair….
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Ha Ha Ha ………my hairdresser has no hair I so gets a vicarial pleasure from over cutting!! X