It is said that a woman’s crowning glory is her hair and all those of us that have suffered a really bad haircut, can empathise. I know because I have suffered my fair share.
One of the hardest challenges of moving so frequently, is finding new doctors, dentists, OBGYN’s etc., but by far the hardest challenge is to find a good hairdresser.
In my experience, word of mouth and recommendations are the best way to go. Okay, if you have a recommendation and you turn out not to like the particular service, it is usually easy to change or vote with your feet and just not go back. But go to a hairdresser and get a lousy cut and you are having a bad hair day for the next 5 or so weeks.
When we lived in Manila, I was very soon recommended a German guy by the name of Manfred. Manfred, I swear, used to put down his scissors to go and take a quick snort of some substance mid cut. But, he knew how to cut hair and that was all he did. No colouring, perms or blow drying for Manfred. He cut hair and boy was he good. And it didn’t matter what you said to him, he had his own ideas about what style was best for you and so he cut that style. Usually he was right. I used to hate going but I loved the result.
In Istanbul and France I found English girls - again word of mouth – that had “portable” hairdressing salons so that was easy – sort of.
I make no apology for the fact that I colour my hair. After all, I am far too young in this day and age to be grey which is certainly what I would be if nature were allowed to take its course. When I was in Paris I went to several salons before I found the English speaking “home service”. My experience there was that there is only bleach. Forget tinting, it is good old peroxide for blonds. With trepidation I let them start, but they were so slow that after a few foils, they were taking out and rinsing the first ones before continuing with the next. Salvation was in the form of the English girl that brought her products from “back home”
In the States, I was recommended a European girl and from the get-go, she had been fabulous. So much so, that in the eight months that I have been here, I have been back to her four times. As a consequence, I have not yet had to find a hairdresser here. But that fateful day is fast approaching. I am due to go back to the States in November and I have an appointment already scheduled but after that - helpppppppp. As a blond, there are not many salons used to dealing with streaked blond hair and with one exception, almost all the blonds I have seen here look like tigers with hideous stripes.
I have had a few recommendations here and sooner or later I am going to have to bite the proverbial bullet and just try them out. But this week I was having my nails done at the local hairdressing salon and watched with disbelief as the main colourist did a client’s hair. She had long, dark hair and wanted blond streaks put though. He piled her hair onto the top of her head and proceeded to take a huge chunk and back comb it to within 2 inches of her scalp. The hair that was left, he then proceeded to paint with dye, working the colour into the hair a bit like a plasterer would mix plaster and water – ugh. Each foil took about 3 or 4 minutes. Now. Given that my fabulous hairdresser in New Jersey could foil my entire head in around 30 minutes, I am in dread that not only is the result going to be awful, the process is going to take forever.
It also has to be said that my dog, a Fox Terrier is also having the same problem. Fox Terriers are not like most dogs, they too have hair that grows and has to be cut as opposed to most other dogs that have fur that sheds.
Tessie, in the States had a fabulous groomer who loved her almost as much as I do and whenever Tessie went for a haircut, would come out looking fabulous amongst canines.
So the first time I took her to the local dog parlour here, they did a great job. Fantastic, I thought, one less thing to worry about.
Since then they have cut her as if she is a Schnauzer, complete with shaggy underbelly and funny beard. The time after that I took a photo of a Fox Terrier and they managed to cut off her eyebrows so she looked more like a sheep than a dog, and this week they did a sort of okay job but when I got her home, I had to put her onto the kitchen counter top and gave her some finishing touches to make her look like a real Fox Terrier.
Seems it is not only the human world that has a “bad hair day”.
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