Little Suzy Curly-Q

Bertha B. got a perm today. I still reek of rotten eggs. The smell reminded me of going to the hair salon with my mother when I was little. Her salon was this snazzy place on Roosevelt Avenue in Queens with a purple neon sign that read Papillon. I used to love looking at all the hairstyles in the oversized hardcover haircut catalogs. By the time I was in middle school, I had all those hair catalogs memorized, but I still liked flipping through them. I can still almost picture all the feathery, Farrah Fawcett layers and short and curly backcombed 'dos.

Anyway... so, I gave Bertha a perm today. Bertha B. is my most-trusted, daily client. She's also made of plastic, so I don't have to fret about poking her in the face, slicing her with shears, or dripping a chemical in her eye. Plus her scalp comes off and I can give her a brand new head of hair if I accidentally give her a bad perm or dye job. Most convenient.

My thoughts on perms: Part of me can't comprehend why anyone would want to put their hair (and scalp) through that much chemical torture. (...says she whose hair is about to break off from years of bleaching...) Apart from the fact that you have to keep an eye on the stuff and check it every 2 minutes because if, heaven forfend, you over-process the hair, it WILL turn into cotton candy and melt right in your fingers -- it also really freaking stinks! And that smell lingers on your clothes and your hair for days! (Sorry Bertha, that is the price you pay for vanity!) I mean, yeah, okay, I get that perms were big in the 80s, and some people just have no other way to get a curl to stick in their hair, but it boggles my mind just a little bit that there aren't any more effective alternatives. I have no idea why chemically changing the texture of someone's hair seems like a big deal to me, but I don't bat an eye at chemically changing the color (no matter how frequently). It's not like the actual hair can feel any of it... it's just dead protein.

The actual process wasn't so bad, though of course it took me all day. I was feeling particularly the anti-beauty student beauty student today (more on that later), so I was happy to retreat into my own little world and just roll hair into rods for four hours. And it is kinda rewarding to see those curlicues emerge as you rinse that foul-smelling potion off. I am, however, secretly hoping that I never have to do another perm again for the duration of my career.

So here's Bertha, pre-perm. (just ignore the awful highlights right on her hairline... I was totally going for that 90s skunk look, ok?!)

And Bertha, post-perm. (I *might* have been channeling Jennifer Grey's look in Dirty Dancing. Nobody puts Baby in the corner.)

K, that's it for now, as I've been severely sleep-deprived and don't have the mental energy to discuss hair any longer (for fear my *brain* will turn to cotton candy and melt between my ears). I've been working on a couple of posts that will come up as soon as I regain some of that, notably on why I suck at being in beauty school and also pics of my first few real-life hair models... So exciting!

Salon & Stylist Compatibility

Last night after a friend's birthday party (which involved pizza, donuts, beer and bowling at a place in Brooklyn called The Gutter... a classy affair indeed!), our group of friends ended up continuing the drunken merrymaking at a bar in Williamsburg. As the guys (all musicians) gathered 'round to discuss this guitar riff and that chord progression, the girls (myself included) sat at the bar discussing -- what else? -- hair.

After complimenting each other on all our respective dye jobs and how we had achieved them (brown & blue, hot pink, warm brown and my own black and white), we got into a discussion about the actual salon experience. Hot Pink declared she hated going to salons. She said it was always awkward, so she preferred just doing her hair herself. Brown & Blue was quick to agree. She goes to one particular salon because it's cheap, but overall doesn't necessarily enjoy the experience. "Having someone touch my head is a really intimate thing... I hate having someone random touching me. It's weird."

Brown & Blue also brought up the point that it is equally weird when you are sitting in a salon and have nothing to say. Because, of course, you're "supposed to" chat (and gossip) with your stylist, right? But we've all been in this situation: you're sitting in a stylist's chair, nothing to say, the stylist working quietly away on a part of your person, and this pregnant silence hovering in the air between you. Awkward!!

This led me to think about the kind of people who make good, approachable stylists. Being a "good stylist" is a lot about skill and technique... but it's every bit as much (if not more) about personality.

photo: Glamour Garage, Brooklyn

As an admittedly recovering hair slut, my salon experiences (as a client) have run the gamut. When going to a friend, the banter and "gossip" is nonstop -- it's a time to catch up on your own lives and discuss absolutely everyone we know in common. But what about when it's a new stylist you're going to? A complete stranger?

My instructor at the Hogwarts Academy for Hair Wizardry has told my class that, as stylists, we are all actors. Something about this bothers me. I do agree that once you are behind the chair, you have to be "on." Bad day? Too freakin' bad! Your clients are your #1 priority now; making them look AND feel good. They don't give a crap about your problems, but they sure as hell expect you to care about theirs. But, my problem with referring to us as "actors" is that it implies that we *don't* in fact care about their issues. We're just pretending, so we can make a better tip... I don't know, but something about that makes the whole thing seem a little cheap. Yes, we're part of the service industry, but I'd hope our relationship with our clients isn't purely based on lip service and a bottle of bleach. If I have to see you (and listen to you!) every 4-6 weeks, I'd want it to be a genuinely enjoyable experience every time.

This train of thought reinforces my belief that finding the right salon (read: clients) is the most essential part of being successful in this business. If money is your top motivator, then by all means, work at a fine corporate salon where you can do top-notch work and simply humor your clients for a couple of hours. But if you're looking to develop a clientele who feel an actual connection to you, then it's important to approach those clients like you would your friends. Work for a salon that speaks to your aesthetic and your lifestyle. The kinds of clients you're likely to encounter there will probably feel more at ease around you if they believe that there is some sort of common ground right off the bat. (Hopefully that'll take care of the pregnant silence!) You're also more likely to understand the vision your clients are looking to achieve if you have similar tastes. And, if all else fails, perhaps you can make some new friends?

Of course, it's easy to wax poetic about all this when you've only got a little over a month of hair school under your belt and the task of finding employment at a compatible salon that will also somehow pay your bills is lurking in the seemingly distant future of six whole months from now... But I take pride in thinking that I feed off of other people's energy routinely and to great effect, and I really enjoy meeting new people and finding out the things that make them unique. No matter where I end up, even if entirely different from what my naive ideals have conjured, I expect that those traits will serve me well.