The Joy of Haircuts

I count myself lucky to have a full head of hair. My father started going bald in his twenties, so I just presumed our shared genetics meant my own hair loss was inevitable too.

It’s not that I’m vain or anything (honest) and I certainly don’t regard baldness as aesthetically unattractive. You just need to look at The Rock, Bruce Willis and Lord Voldemort to see how distinguished it can look.

And I’m not just talking about men either. I think women look absolutely stunning without hair; Sinead O'Connor, Natalie Portman, Grace Jones, Demi Moore … the list is endless.

Beautiful!

So if a time eventually comes when I find myself unclogging clumps of the stuff from the drain after my daily shower, there will be no hesitation from me. Rather than experimenting with dodgy comb-overs for several years (like a certain president of the United States) I will just shave the lot off with a cutthroat razor and hence become a proud member of the beautiful bald club forever.

But while I really don't mind losing my hair, one thing I definitely will be sad to lose is my bi-monthly trip to the hairdressers. This is because it means so much more to me than just having a haircut. It’s a time when I’m able to step away from the chaos and insanity of modern life and just live in the moment. It’s my time!

My hairdresser Mike is such nice guy. He runs the business from his own private premises and has made it look incredible. It has the atmosphere and authenticity of a beautiful French café; with some shabby chic furniture, amazing artwork, and even an upright piano on display.

As soon as I walk in the door, I’m greeted with a familiar smile and an offer of coffee; the richness and flavour of which is so much better than anything Starbucks can produce! Then if Mike is still finishing off another clients hair, I can just chill on the chaise lounge and read a classy magazine, or even write a poem while I soak up the Parisian atmosphere.

When it comes to my turn, Mike will remove my coat for me (like a proper gentleman in one of those old black and white movies) then offer me another fill of aromatic French coffee before draping me in a plush hairdressers gown. Talk about personal service!

I’ve been going to Mike’s for over twenty years now, so no conversation is required in regard to my style requirements. He knows what I like and I trust him implicitly with his work. So he just starts to cut and hence our chit-chat begins.

But this is no ordinary chit-chat. Mike and I are very tuned into each other and have very similar opinions about culture and current affairs. So while he continues to cut with the skill of Michelangelo, we enjoy putting the world to rights and having a good laugh about it all (usually at the expense of a government leader or two!)

In a perfect and infinite world, I think Mike and I could be great friends outside the salon. But the reality is, I’m just another client that craves the pleasure, relaxation and escapism that he so expertly brings a few times a year. That’s the nature of hairdressers I guess; they have other lives too.

So here’s to more haircuts, my undying gratitude to Mike and to the joy he brings. Perhaps if I go bald he will agree to trim my beard instead. I don’t think I can live without the amazing coffee!

Thanks for reading

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Originally published at https://medium.com/never-stop-writing/the-joy-of-haircuts-b2e647dd7382