Jeffrey, thank you for the “insistent metal insects” and the deft interweaving of hair and literature throughout. As for patter from stylists, there is now an international movement to train stylists in “mental health first aid,” as it’s known. A program called PsychHairapy certifies Black stylists to listen to clients and offer gentle guidance. There’s an intimacy about haircutting that encourages people to open up.
Thank you for sharing that, Rona. I was aware of mental health first aid, but not among hairdressers. I can see how it could be beneficial. But I can also see how it might come across as intrusive to some.
A great writing Jeffery! Like all great writings, it made my thought wandering into all things hair cut related.
My husband and I used to lament that non-Asian hairdressers don’t know how to deal with our unruly straight hair. Then I found my Chinese hairdresser in the Silicon Valley high-tech town square where over half of the population has my hair type. I still have my hair cut there every other month when I fly there to visit my mom. And when I am in that chair, I turn into a chatty middle-aged Chinese lady. lol
On the other hand, my husband developed the skill of self-help buzz cut during the pandemic. Now there is only the buzzing of the electric razor, no talk of any size is necessary. 😊
I once had to give up the services of a very competent hairdresser in Seoul who couldn't stop asking nosy questions and giving unsolicited advice. Fortunately, her replacement was just as competent and nearly silent, lol.
I confess that I remove my hearing aids just after the "how do you want it cut" conversation and take full advantage of the deaf-persons gift of hearing silence. I tip well. So mostly they are happy to chat to other people and let me sit in blissful silence.
So I recommend developing a bit of deafness as your hair goes grey. 😁
Love the illustrations--both the art and the darling blond boy. :) And, oh, how the changing of our hair says so much about the unfolding and changing of a life, doesn't it? Great post, Jeffrey!
Felt a nice moment of synchronicity as I read this just now. I was just chatting with my daughter Solana this morning (before I read 'The Haircut') who was asking me whether her hair looked blonde in the sunlight (it did). I reflected with her that my hair had been through several colour changes. From blonde as a child (like yourself) to brown, to died jet black as a teenager (for which I was kicked out of school for a couple of weeks), to now greying (again like yourself), and now anticipating the increasing shades of grey morphing to white over time.
I used to balk at the way hairdressers kept talking to me and asking me questions, but after a while I realised each customer was a way to glean a world outside the confines of their salon, and I felt a bit more settled after that.
Also— have you ever experienced your dentist asking you questions? My dentist somehow managed to keep up a one-sided conversation with my mumbles in froth in response to her..
Thank you, Clare. That's a very empathetic view of the conversations with hairdressers. Though in my case, they probably wouldn't glean anything very intelligible about the outside world through talking to me.
What your dentist did seems to border on sadism...
Ah hairdressing! I can’t think of another job where a stranger shows up with the presupposition that, in an hour, you will: understand their cultural and personal reference points; establish that what they think is a trim is the same as what you’d consider a trim, your inch is the same as their inch, all while you gently hold their body image vulnerabilities and reinterpret all of said information for their face shape, hair type and lifestyle, sending them out into the world feeling and looking better than they did before. The hairdresser’s chair is a nexus of vulnerability and expectation. People are faced with a stark and unflinching vision of themselves, wet hair pulled back to expose every inch of their face to themselves in the mirror (we’d get rid of it but it’s necessary for balance), devoid of personality thanks to the cape. The anxiety of someone who once had a haircut that they hated for months comes right into the room with them. So does the joy and pain of their life, whether they choose to discuss it or not. For more folks than you’d imagine, it’s the only safe space they have to express themselves. I hear things that they haven’t told their partner or family or doctor. I have been the first person to hear about divorce, domestic violence, sexual orientation, cancer, death, a new love, an old hurt. I have been the first person to physically touch someone in months or years. I have been the last person to touch someone outside of the medical professional or family before they leave this earthly plane. It is a delicate balance of creativity and practicality. It’s a privilege to be privy to so many people’s vulnerabilities but it’s also a burden. It can be hard on your psyche. Hairdressing is also a skill that many people assume they could gain if they just put their mind to it. I could probably yank your tooth out with pliers if I set my mind to it but it wouldn’t make me a dentist you’d be keen to visit. To be skilled at anything requires study, time and effort. I very rarely take walk-ins. I don’t want to cut someone’s hair that thinks you could just walk in anywhere and have a phenomenal experience. There’s Ikea and there’s custom carpentry. Neither is bad but you can’t walk into Ikea and leave with a piece of furniture tailored to your home and lifestyle. Hair salons are similar. The best way to find the best stylist for you is to ask someone you see on the street with hair like yours, not just where they got it cut but the name of the stylist. It’s always a good idea to come with a few pictures of cuts you like. Most hairstylists want you to enjoy the experience as well as the finished cut, or at the very least not find it torturous. If you don’t speak their language, use google translate to tell your stylist you’d prefer quiet. Failing that, close your eyes. Works like a charm. You never know, your hairdresser might also enjoy some peace and quiet.
Thank you for giving the hairdresser's perspective! I'm aware of not being a very good customer(I'm worse with dentists), but have always been impressed by hairdressers like the one I had in Egypt who somehow knew just how to put me at ease. It seems like a real gift.
Only another devoted hairdresser can relate to the most unusual profession we are in.
With giving the first haircut of life to one's last haircut in life.
Shaving the bits of hair that are left once the chemo has ravished the body. Tear's of sadness to tear's of joy, when the chemo has finished and worked.
We are most always put in the position to be a temporary therapist. We were taught this in our young career. So, I've always had a special place in my heart for whatever reason, therapy may be unavailable.
I've always tried to keep these words as part of my career. When you work, work with Love.
Thank you so much for this powerful reflection. I really appreciate your comment and those of Nicola. They make me see that I have been guilty for years of a failure of empathy. My mother, towards the end of her life, found the company of her hairdresser, who'd visit her at home because of my mother's moblity issues, of great comfort to her. I should take a lesson from that.
Great article Jeff and so much in there. I’m trying to remember people who have cut my hair in around 10 countries over the years and it’s surprising how many people who I had forgotten spring to mind. The young Kosovo Serb who insisted ‘kratko, kratko’ when I just wanted 1 cm off. I eventually succumbed. The hairdresser in Bangkok who invited me to lunch after a haircut. I pretended not to understand and didn’t succumb. The Italian who was insisting how handsome some 80’s English singers were and I used all my Italian to change the subject. The current Romanian who can never understand how I can go in office hours. As for the colours on the floor, enough said.
I'm in the opposite camp these days. After years of living in a small town or feeling forced to get a mall haircut, I'm thrilled to have found a professional British hairdresser making a living out here in Siem Reap from his home. It's been so nice to speak freely without struggling with the language. I like getting to know people, so for me, it's they who become trapped under my curious questions about hairdressing and the like! 😂
Awww! ⭐ Also, just saw the other day a couple of tourists getting their haircut at a local barber. They looked quite pleased. Reminds me of Rick Steves travel advice, get a haircut, because of the unique experience!
As a reader, I appreciate the level of interpretive space you grant your audience in this memorable reflection. It is a thought-provoking companion piece to your tribute to "Poem in October" in terms of navigating change in our lives with both humor & honest self-reflection. Your willingness to share these personal insights with subtle vulnerability encourages authentic connections with your readers.
Thank you! I really appreciate your thoughtful comments. I'm lucky to have very smart readers, so I prefer to leave space for interpretation, as you suggest, rather than spell things out.
Jeffrey, thank you for the “insistent metal insects” and the deft interweaving of hair and literature throughout. As for patter from stylists, there is now an international movement to train stylists in “mental health first aid,” as it’s known. A program called PsychHairapy certifies Black stylists to listen to clients and offer gentle guidance. There’s an intimacy about haircutting that encourages people to open up.
Thank you for sharing that, Rona. I was aware of mental health first aid, but not among hairdressers. I can see how it could be beneficial. But I can also see how it might come across as intrusive to some.
A great writing Jeffery! Like all great writings, it made my thought wandering into all things hair cut related.
My husband and I used to lament that non-Asian hairdressers don’t know how to deal with our unruly straight hair. Then I found my Chinese hairdresser in the Silicon Valley high-tech town square where over half of the population has my hair type. I still have my hair cut there every other month when I fly there to visit my mom. And when I am in that chair, I turn into a chatty middle-aged Chinese lady. lol
On the other hand, my husband developed the skill of self-help buzz cut during the pandemic. Now there is only the buzzing of the electric razor, no talk of any size is necessary. 😊
Thank you for sharing your stories, Yi Xue! It's true that the pandemic changed the nature of haircuts for many of us.
But he still misses the $6 haircut from the basement hair salon in New York City Chinatown! lol
😂
Here to say that I love the little boy picture.
I adore childhood photos in general.
Thanks, Zina. It's one of the childhood photos in which I am more or less 100% sure it's me and not my identical twin :)
I once had to give up the services of a very competent hairdresser in Seoul who couldn't stop asking nosy questions and giving unsolicited advice. Fortunately, her replacement was just as competent and nearly silent, lol.
Ah, the unsolicited advice. I hear you.
I confess that I remove my hearing aids just after the "how do you want it cut" conversation and take full advantage of the deaf-persons gift of hearing silence. I tip well. So mostly they are happy to chat to other people and let me sit in blissful silence.
So I recommend developing a bit of deafness as your hair goes grey. 😁
Thank you for the tip, Sue!
Love the illustrations--both the art and the darling blond boy. :) And, oh, how the changing of our hair says so much about the unfolding and changing of a life, doesn't it? Great post, Jeffrey!
Thank you, Holly! And yes, there's always more to be said about hair, isn't there? :)
Beautiful post!! Thank you for writing it!! 💚💚💚💚💚
Thank you so much, Sue!
Felt a nice moment of synchronicity as I read this just now. I was just chatting with my daughter Solana this morning (before I read 'The Haircut') who was asking me whether her hair looked blonde in the sunlight (it did). I reflected with her that my hair had been through several colour changes. From blonde as a child (like yourself) to brown, to died jet black as a teenager (for which I was kicked out of school for a couple of weeks), to now greying (again like yourself), and now anticipating the increasing shades of grey morphing to white over time.
Hi Ralph, great to hear from you. And thank you for sharing that story. I hope Solana enjoyed the moment!
I used to balk at the way hairdressers kept talking to me and asking me questions, but after a while I realised each customer was a way to glean a world outside the confines of their salon, and I felt a bit more settled after that.
Also— have you ever experienced your dentist asking you questions? My dentist somehow managed to keep up a one-sided conversation with my mumbles in froth in response to her..
Thank you, Clare. That's a very empathetic view of the conversations with hairdressers. Though in my case, they probably wouldn't glean anything very intelligible about the outside world through talking to me.
What your dentist did seems to border on sadism...
it was quite funny as my dentist took a couple of my “no”s for “yes”es so her narrative ended up developing quite creatively 😂
I have always loved the ceremony of haircuts!
I've often found them to be a battle of wills...:)
Ah hairdressing! I can’t think of another job where a stranger shows up with the presupposition that, in an hour, you will: understand their cultural and personal reference points; establish that what they think is a trim is the same as what you’d consider a trim, your inch is the same as their inch, all while you gently hold their body image vulnerabilities and reinterpret all of said information for their face shape, hair type and lifestyle, sending them out into the world feeling and looking better than they did before. The hairdresser’s chair is a nexus of vulnerability and expectation. People are faced with a stark and unflinching vision of themselves, wet hair pulled back to expose every inch of their face to themselves in the mirror (we’d get rid of it but it’s necessary for balance), devoid of personality thanks to the cape. The anxiety of someone who once had a haircut that they hated for months comes right into the room with them. So does the joy and pain of their life, whether they choose to discuss it or not. For more folks than you’d imagine, it’s the only safe space they have to express themselves. I hear things that they haven’t told their partner or family or doctor. I have been the first person to hear about divorce, domestic violence, sexual orientation, cancer, death, a new love, an old hurt. I have been the first person to physically touch someone in months or years. I have been the last person to touch someone outside of the medical professional or family before they leave this earthly plane. It is a delicate balance of creativity and practicality. It’s a privilege to be privy to so many people’s vulnerabilities but it’s also a burden. It can be hard on your psyche. Hairdressing is also a skill that many people assume they could gain if they just put their mind to it. I could probably yank your tooth out with pliers if I set my mind to it but it wouldn’t make me a dentist you’d be keen to visit. To be skilled at anything requires study, time and effort. I very rarely take walk-ins. I don’t want to cut someone’s hair that thinks you could just walk in anywhere and have a phenomenal experience. There’s Ikea and there’s custom carpentry. Neither is bad but you can’t walk into Ikea and leave with a piece of furniture tailored to your home and lifestyle. Hair salons are similar. The best way to find the best stylist for you is to ask someone you see on the street with hair like yours, not just where they got it cut but the name of the stylist. It’s always a good idea to come with a few pictures of cuts you like. Most hairstylists want you to enjoy the experience as well as the finished cut, or at the very least not find it torturous. If you don’t speak their language, use google translate to tell your stylist you’d prefer quiet. Failing that, close your eyes. Works like a charm. You never know, your hairdresser might also enjoy some peace and quiet.
Thank you for giving the hairdresser's perspective! I'm aware of not being a very good customer(I'm worse with dentists), but have always been impressed by hairdressers like the one I had in Egypt who somehow knew just how to put me at ease. It seems like a real gift.
It is a gift. Just like your writing. Either you have it in your soul or you don't. It's something you are born with. A gift. No?
He certainly had that gift.
Nicola, beautifully written!
Only another devoted hairdresser can relate to the most unusual profession we are in.
With giving the first haircut of life to one's last haircut in life.
Shaving the bits of hair that are left once the chemo has ravished the body. Tear's of sadness to tear's of joy, when the chemo has finished and worked.
We are most always put in the position to be a temporary therapist. We were taught this in our young career. So, I've always had a special place in my heart for whatever reason, therapy may be unavailable.
I've always tried to keep these words as part of my career. When you work, work with Love.
Thank you so much for this powerful reflection. I really appreciate your comment and those of Nicola. They make me see that I have been guilty for years of a failure of empathy. My mother, towards the end of her life, found the company of her hairdresser, who'd visit her at home because of my mother's moblity issues, of great comfort to her. I should take a lesson from that.
Jeffrey it sounds, as though you
have/are learning from Nicola and myself.as we have learned from you, as well. Truely, a beautiful piece! Be well my friend.
This was so poetic and comforting. I loved the journey across place and time you took us on.
Thank you so much, Noha!
Great article Jeff and so much in there. I’m trying to remember people who have cut my hair in around 10 countries over the years and it’s surprising how many people who I had forgotten spring to mind. The young Kosovo Serb who insisted ‘kratko, kratko’ when I just wanted 1 cm off. I eventually succumbed. The hairdresser in Bangkok who invited me to lunch after a haircut. I pretended not to understand and didn’t succumb. The Italian who was insisting how handsome some 80’s English singers were and I used all my Italian to change the subject. The current Romanian who can never understand how I can go in office hours. As for the colours on the floor, enough said.
Thank you for sharing those amazing memories, Andrew! It sounds like you've had some very colourful characters cutting your hair.
Nice read. :-) In terms of poems about haircuts, I thought this haiku by Shiki from the late-1800s might be interesting to you:
.
young bamboo—
on the garden stool
getting a haircut
.
Thank you, Dick. And the haiku’s great.
I'm in the opposite camp these days. After years of living in a small town or feeling forced to get a mall haircut, I'm thrilled to have found a professional British hairdresser making a living out here in Siem Reap from his home. It's been so nice to speak freely without struggling with the language. I like getting to know people, so for me, it's they who become trapped under my curious questions about hairdressing and the like! 😂
Thanks for the recommendation, Jeffrey!
Hi Lani, as always, I value the perspective you bring! I'm sure the hairdresser is delighted to chat with you.
Awww! ⭐ Also, just saw the other day a couple of tourists getting their haircut at a local barber. They looked quite pleased. Reminds me of Rick Steves travel advice, get a haircut, because of the unique experience!
Great advice!
Absolutely love this. Only you could describe aging and a haircut with George Eliot. But then there is "Only YOU!"
As a reader, I appreciate the level of interpretive space you grant your audience in this memorable reflection. It is a thought-provoking companion piece to your tribute to "Poem in October" in terms of navigating change in our lives with both humor & honest self-reflection. Your willingness to share these personal insights with subtle vulnerability encourages authentic connections with your readers.
Thank you! I really appreciate your thoughtful comments. I'm lucky to have very smart readers, so I prefer to leave space for interpretation, as you suggest, rather than spell things out.