Hairdressers 2 Friday February 11, 2011

Whenever I go to the hairdresser, Steve always pays me a back handed compliment of sorts, by failing to notice. He works on the principle that if he hasn’t noticed, then it can’t be all bad. This of course is an absolute load of rubbish because the day I went from blonde to brunette he also failed to notice, but if it makes him feel better, so be it.

Today I had my hair done in Sao Paulo for the first time. Rodriguez was recommended by a friend and so with a certain amount of trepidation, I went along. Thank goodness my previous hairdresser had written down the formula for the colours that she used and when I presented them to Rodriguez, he happily went away to start mixing. In the meantime I was handed the smallest of robes and the girl pointed to a changing cubicle. Was I supposed to get undressed? I thought better of it and wrapped it around me as best I could. It covered very little so just as well I had kept everything on underneath. ( I did later see a man taking his robe into the changing cubicle and came out a minute later baring a very hairy chest – not a pretty sight).

Just before I arrived at the salon, I discovered that I had left my cell phone at home and so dispatched Marcelo to go and get it for me. Now, you have to realize that Marcelo only ever sees me glammed up and ready for the day. The only occasion that he has seen me without make up and dressed was the day he arrived at the house at 5.30 in the morning to pick up the car to go to the airport to collect Steve, only to discover that he didn’t have the car keys and needed the spares. He called on the phone to request the spares, and I couldn’t bear the thought that he would see me looking, well like I had just got out of bed. I almost handed him the keys through the window of the garage but thought better of it and so he (very) briefly saw me. Not sure who was the most embarrassed.

But back to today. By the time Marcelo came back with the cell phone, Rodriguez was well stuck in and there were bits of plastic stuck to my head. Not a pretty sight. Marcelo walked in, dark suit and not sure why he would wear them indoors but dark glasses as well. All that was missing was the ear piece thingy that you see in the movies. I would have given anything for him not to see me like this but a girl has to have her cell phone.

Okay, now here is a question that anyone living outside Brazil would struggle to answer. How many people does it take to do a woman’s hair? Well, it depends. I had two people doing the colour – both at once. I could see they were going to fight over the bit at the top where they were about to collide but seniority prevailed. Then I was whisked over to the basin and invited to lay stretched out while two more people removed the foils. A wash and condition later I was then invited into the massage chair for a quick five minute neck massage. I have to say that after having lain in what has to be the most uncomfortable of washbasins (clearly designed by a man); a five minute massage was just wonderful.

Then it was off to be cut and then two people to blow dry the hair. Rodriguez finished off, clearly wanting to be sure of the R$ 20 tip that he probably knew would be forthcoming from the “foreigner”.

The woman sitting next to me was having her nails and feet manicured so she had an extra two attendants. There were men coming a going, enjoying the same treatment so as far as I was concerned all dignity was lost.

The result, I have to say is not too bad. I actually felt reassured that I have found a hairdresser that did an okay job. Even better, I would go back to him.

But coming back to the original point, Steve paid me the usual compliment by not noticing.