Two years ago one of the drawbacks of moving here was leaving a perfectly good hairdresser behind in the city. She was from New Zealand and had hair the color of Kool-Aid, and she was awesome. I miss her. In the meantime, I've vacillated between letting my hair sadly slump beyond where it should, sort of bad-70s-school-picture-esque, and infrequent visits to a woman who was very cool and nice, but who, like most hairdressers, wanted nothing more than to give me the dreaded anchor woman hair. Boring, one-dimensional, bobble-headed ickiness.
Then last week I gathered the courage to ask someone where they got their hair done. I hate those sorts of personal questions of strangers, but I had to do it, or start planning trips back to the city every eight weeks, which seemed silly. There must be good people here too. Anyway, unfortunately, her excellent cut was from a talented-but-retired hairdresser girlfriend (drat), but she recommended a guy downtown, though I sensed there was a backstory that I wasn't getting. I went yesterday and I have to say, I don't know if it's moving to bumfucknowhere, or my advancing age, but lately I've really come to enjoy the occasional exposure to complete characters. This guy didn't stop talking or touching my head until I was back beyond his doors and on the street. He was unashamedly full of himself, and somehow yet very welcoming and endearing...clearly enjoying himself and it was infective. And, he executed that fast-action flourish haircutting thing with great skill. Truly, he really did know what he was doing. It's sort of asymmetrical, edgy, and definitely interesting.
Though, I have to say that I do sort of wish he hadn't used my head as a discussion tool amongst the various people in the salon. He was in the heat of talking about what he "does," really taking center stage, when he grabbed the clippers and pressed it to my temple, saying "And we can do THIS!" shearing the hair and leaving an odd, high, severe spot of a bang, and I visibly winced. The first thing I did when I got home was run to the bathroom and knick that spot up a bit so that I didn't look like backup singer for Bowie. But other than that, it was all fun and flair and I had a good time. And I (think I) love my hair. I just need to let it...um...grow on me. I can only assume it will.