Is it just me or is your hairdresser one of the most important people in your life? I mean, certainly I have been through quite a few until I met Bella. Oh Bella you are all things to me, Shrink, Stylist and All Round Good Egg.
The first hairdresser I had when I got to Baltimore was at a salon called Split Ends (not its real name). Her name was Fiona and she looked like a woodland elf, very thin and with a pixie hair cut. Now she was pretty good at cutting hair but she was really boring. She had the most tedious on off relationship with a guy who taught the accordian or was it the lute? Anyway he kept saying he wasn't ready to commit and she was like my ovaries are drying up. And then it was off and on. Until I was like I don't care if you are off or on I want out.
The next hairdresser I tried couldn't really cut hair but was really loud and funny and called Carla. Firstly she'd scream in Split Ends which was actually quite a classy place about how her first husband ran off and left her when her son was born with no explanation and hotfooted it to Chicago. Then she screamed that it was okay because he'd never been able to find her clitoris. I said, "Well maybe he's still trying to find it in Chicago?" and this made her scream with laughter. And then she told me in detail about how her new husband could not only find it but manipulate it. But a lot of clients were looking at us funny and I started to get embarrassed. So I moved on from Carla and this was when I found Bella.
I guess I was getting a bit of a sluttish reputation at the salon because I was metaphorically whoring my way around the Stylists. Did Fiona know that her tedious tales had caused me to baulk and did Carla know that her raucous sexual escapades had me blushing? I have no idea. Because at last I had found her. Bella cut hair beautifully, she did highlights beautifully, she was sycophantic to quite a large extent and didn't always talk about herself which I loved. And she actually had a brain and a great sense of humour. We were like swans, wedded for life. And then the inevitable happened - she left Split Ends to go to a salon called Trendy Bitches and at first I didn't want to go to Trendy Bitches because it's really hard to park there and so I stayed at Split Ends and started with my fourth hairdresser a glam goth girl called Betsy who cut and dyed hair quite badly but had some funny stories about some C list British celebs she knew which I promised I wouldn't blab about.
So in the end I couldn't fight it anymore. I knew my heart was with Bella and I was going to have to start leaving the sophisticated world of Split Ends and going to Trendy Bitches. And that was this morning except I couldn't find Trendy Bitches because I'd written the address down wrong and my cell was dead so it took me an hour to find it at which point I arrived a sweaty panting mess at the Salon and the receptionist looked at me like I was roadkill and I said, "I got lost. I am looking for Bella. I have tried all the others and nothing compares tooooo you. It's been seven hours and fifteen days since you took your scissors away from me." And I started howling like Sinead O'Connor until they let me stay. And in the end Bella only had time to do a cut and not highlights and I confessed everything: how I'd let Betsy cut my hair. And she said, "Oh I'm not angry that you went to her," but I knew she was really. I wanted her to know I was sorry, so sorry for being so fickle and not wanting to go to a salon where you had to pay for parking but I'm sure the large tip allayed any of her fears that I might be a cheap bitch. And so it was a happy ending for sure.
And what about you? Have you found a hairdresser you want to make sweet sweet music with? Someone who has that tantalizing balance between being friendly and not telling you gynaecological details? If you have treasure them because they are hard to find.
Who am I? Displaced Londoner now living in the States with my two little girlies and long suffering husband. Co-author of hilarious parenting book Cocktails at Naptime www.cocktailsatnaptime.com
My mom's an Austrian, my dad's a Brit, which makes me a Britaustrian, or possibly an Austrish?