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The Guilt of Changing Hair Salons
How do you break-up with someone who knows all your secrets?
It’s no secret that women have a close relationship with their hairdresser; we tell them absolutely everything. There’s just something therapeutic about sitting in that chair, someone softly playing with your hair, listening while you tell them every dirty detail about your life.
I remember one of my first salons. It was fancy and located in a trendy neighbourhood, but I don’t remember my hairdresser there. I knew it was expensive and can still hear my dad complaining, my mom hushing him. She didn’t want to take chances on a bad hairdresser and was willing to pay more so that a haircut would look good instead of cringe-worthy. When I was younger I didn’t understand why my mom would be so worried about such a thing; didn’t all hairdressers do a great job?
I remember bits and pieces of this so-called fancy salon, but I remember switching salons more clearly.
We switched to a hair salon a little closer to home and probably much cheaper than the original and I was 13 when I met the hairdresser that would be mine for more than 15 years.
She was bubbly and funny, kind and welcoming, so when she opened her own practice, I followed. Because who wouldn’t? She was always friendly and once I was old enough, would add a little Baileys to my coffee I’d bring with me on early mornings.
She told me the best bars to visit in her previous home, Edinburgh, letting me know which footballers hung out where. As a single girl in Scotland, this was must-have information and she delivered. I had an absolutely amazing night out heading to that bar with memories I’ll never forget and those I’ll never remember.
Best of all, she made my hair look great. I never wanted to leave her comfortable arms, and even joked that I’d have to fly back solely to get my hair done when I was thinking of applying to university in Victoria. Lucky for my parent’s bank account and my hair I never did apply. I loved that I could show up and she would just do what she needed to it to make me look great; I never had to worry or bring a picture or scour Pinterest to find what I wanted — she just knew.
But, she got older and started to slip. My hair didn’t look as great as I once…
