Paper (Do You Make The) Cut

                  

I had picked up a copy of the Washingtonian magazine yesterday, and I noted it was the dreaded "best of hair" issue. I say "dreaded," because every year that this issue comes out, my stylist goes off into a hissy fit. The salon is invariably cited as one of the best, but he is never mentioned as best of the best within the shop. Granted, he does superior work. Sure enough, this year someone else got singled out...again. I can hardly wait for the next trip in there. I wonder what we'll be discussing?

In past years, I have gone out of my way to appease him, and any time he has asked me to write up something to promote his work, I have always done so. I mean...dare I not when my head is literally in his hands? I've even written promotional material for the shop itself. Loyalty is my middle name. Now put down that blow dryer. What really had me laughing was reading about a shop that I used to go to. Now I read that you need a referral to get your hair done. A referral??? What kind of city is this where you need to have your curling papers in order to get your hair done?

Salons are such a strange sub-culture. I used to go to one salon where the owner and I had known each other as children. Did he ever give me a discount based on longstanding friendship? No. Instead I would get to sit there, paying through the nose while I listened to all of his dreams about his future, about his vacations to tropical shores (and me thinking "and I paid for that") while watching him stare at himself in the mirror and not watching my head. Finally after several years of this and ultimately having my appointments being broken up and being passed along to four other people for one visit, I packed up my credentials and left. A friend left around the same time when she had made arrangements to have her hair done for a wedding. The stylist was supposed to come in early before the shop opened to take care of this. No one showed. My friend called the owner, he finally showed up with no apologies and no discount for the trauma, and that ended her lengthy period with him.

I had another stylist who was probably the best person I ever had do my hair, but he had a teensy, tiny heroin addiction. He also decided as gifted as he was that he would go to New York to let his star shine there in a bigger, highlighted sky. He went to work for Frederic Fekkai and found himself treated at the same level as a shampoo person (that is to say, lowest of the low), and then he was back in D.C., right back where he had been, then he shifted to where I had just left. I don't know where he is at the moment, but that's another thing. Hair stylists rotate through shops in this town like a revolving door. They can be badmouthing one shop during your appointment, and by your next visit, they are working there. My own stylist would badmouth the mirror gazer's shop, but at one point he was being courted and almost jumped ship to go there. My stylist had left the "May I See Your Papers, Please" shop, and I followed him across town, then he went back...so did I, then he shifted again, off I went, then we went back, and we have since left. Notice how I say "we?" Not all people do this, but if someone is good at their craft, it's often worthwhile to follow their services. It's gotten to the point when he calls me (and we have a friendship going now) that I want to answer the phone and say "Where are we going this time...and do I need a passport and visa to go there?"

 

 

 

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