I usually go to the same hairdresser, in an old fashion italian barbershop. It's either a guy or a girl that does the haircut and both know perfectly how it has to be. The barbershop is an old one and it's very italian, with a little santa Maria in a corner, an espresso machine, old pictures of the cousins in Sicily. When they are finished with the scissors, they do the last touches with a one blade razor, put some talcum powder, spray you with perfume and put some hair-gel, you go out polished as a Maserati car :)
Unfortunately, they closed the shop to go to Sicily for a month, and I was left with my growing hair that were going out of control... I went to another shop down the street, where a gay guy and his staff just settled in. I was hoping that I would have my hair cut by the guy, because every gay guy knows how important a haircut is, but he was doing the manucure of an old lady.
One of the girls took me, washed my hair (it's my favourite part, I love when people touch my hair, I must have been a cat in another life) and started to cut... cut... cut... so short at some places, and then took the scissors and started to cut in all the directions, doing some trails on my head... I closed my eyes hoping that something nice would come out of this, but unfortunately it didn't. She seemed quite happy with her work. I look like a rooster in terminal phase of a grave disease... :/ I can already hear my father joking and saying that it looks like a wheatfield devastated by the storm. O well, it will grow again, sniff.
4 comments:
Oh Charlie! :(
Hey, I know what you mean about having that one or two people you trust to do your hair. The only two people I trust on earth live over 100 miles away and I only get my hair cut when I go there.
Well maybe some cute guys will like your hair cut, then it all will have been worth it!
So, did she give you a faux hawk or something?
You're right, next time I'll do the trip to Sicily! I don't really know what she wanted to do, it's not symetrical, and there are some "steps" bethween the spots where she used the scissors and the electric clippers... damn women!
And this is why the hat was invented (well, one of the reasons anyway). You could . . . learn(?) to accessorize with different hats until your hair grows out again for another haircut. :P
Lol at the "rooster with a terminal disease."
But that's really too bad.
The moral is, with new barbers, you have to tell them what you want.
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