“I am tired of telling you about your hair – you will wear it neat and presentable and it WILL be off your collar.” I nodded meekly. “Why don’t you talk to Denise, she always looks immaculate on duty?” I walked from Matron’s office my mind in a whirl. I had sold up and moved to Scarborough to work in this small, exclusive, private hospital. Whilst ultra up to date in the technology and medical services the overall ambience was much much more traditional and Matron had pointed out that I had agreed to comply with the dress code. I sat down in the canteen, sipping a comforting cup of coffee when Denise joined me.
“What’s wrong Karen?” she asked kindly.
“I’ve just been read the riot act by matron…” I admitted glumly.
“What’s wrong with the old battleaxe now?”
“She says I am scruffy and need to sort out my presentation, especially my hair.”
“Oh that old chestnut” Denise smiled. “I got all that too.”
“She said I have to get it sorted by Monday or face a disciplinary…she also said I should talk to you.” Denise almost reflexively touched at her hair, pressing one of her short curls back from her face. “But it’s Friday, what can I do for Monday? I could try putting it up in a bun and spraying it solid I suppose.”
“Or you could visit my hairdresser and let her help you out.” Denise offered. “I tell you what I’ll give her a call and see if she can fit you in…” In a flash Denise was on the phone. “Hello, it’s Denise, can I have a quick word with Dawn please… Hi Dawn, its Denise, I’m fine thank you, you? Look, can you help out a friend of mine from work? Matron is on the warpath and needs she her hair sorting…You can, that’s great. Two O’clock. No problem. It’s Karen, Karen Reeves, she’ll see you then.” Dawn hung up and beamed at me. “There you go, Dawn has agreed to fit you in tomorrow and she will make sure Matron is happy with you…” I didn’t know what to say. I had not asked Denise to do that but she had just been trying to help. So I found myself getting directions to Dawn’s…
I did think about not keeping the appointment. Denise hadn’t given me the telephone number though and a call to directory enquiries yielded nothing under “Dawn’s” so I couldn’t call and cancel. So it was I found myself in the quiet sidestreet walking towards the salon at five to two on Saturday. There it was. I stared in horror. It was hardly the sort of salon I usually frequented, very old fashioned looking with white net curtains and three elderly grey permed ladies sitting in the window. The legend above the door said “Salon Coiffure” so no wonder I couldn’t find the number. I decided I would go in and make an excuse and cancel my appointment. I walked up to the door and pushed it open. I was met by an almost wall of scents, the perfume of sprays, the scent of shampoos and the underlying pong of tints and perms. I stepped in and was greeted by a lady at the desk. “Hello, my name is Karen Reeves…” I began my mind searching for an excuse to cancel. The lady smiled.
“Hello, we are expecting you, your appointment is with Miss Dawn, let’s get you in a gown shall we…” Well I was swept away. What could I say? I meekly surrendered my coat and slipped into one of the odd gowns that all of the clients were wearing, lifting my hair off my neck so it could be fastened. I then found myself taking a seat next to the lady in the window – the bench still warm where the second had vacated it to take her place at the mirror. I looked around. The salon seemed very busy. There were three styling stations, two of which were occupied. One had the lady from the window who even as I watched was being leant forward to be shampooed; the other had a lady who was having rollers wound into her hair by a surprisingly young stylist. Two more ladies were ensconced under the driers. The receptionist had a few words with the young stylist and her client then approached me. “Would you like to come over Karen?” and so I found myself in the empty chair looking at my reflection in the mirror. In the next seat the young stylist used the small mirror to show her client the back of her set. “That’s lovely Tina, thank you.” She said. A net was tied over the rollers then the small cape was removed and she stood up. I was surprised to see she was wearing the same smart salon uniform as the rest of the salon staff. She was a tall, heavyset woman – quite intimidating really. She stood behind me and smiled through the mirror. “Hello, you must be Karen, Denise’s friend. I’m Dawn.” We exchanged pleasantries as she began to run a brush through my long tresses. At the next chair the stylist brought the other lady over from the window. The only exchange was “Usual Mrs Keen?” followed by a smile and a “yes please dear…” before she was caped and leant forward into the sink.
“You work at the hospital with Denise?” Dawn asked as she brushed.
“Er, yes, I’ve been there a week.”
”And Matron thinks you need to smarten up?” I nodded glumly.
“You will be neat and presentable and it will be off your collar!” she said and I found myself grinning. “Well no problem, you relax and I’ll sort you out.” I smiled warmly. “Thank you for fitting me in like this”. Dawn swung a heavy PVC cape around me. It was cold and settled like a weight on my shoulders. She lifted my hair free of it and fastened it quite tightly. “No problem at all. I finished my last client at 1.30 and was just going to have my hair set this afternoon so as long as you don’t mind fitting around me…Now shampoo.” She pressed me forward into the sink – gently but firmly, brooking no resistance. Thus I found myself staring into the sink. I couldn’t remember the last time I had a front wash but simply complied. She skilfully drenched then shampooed my hair before rinsing it through. I then was allowed to sit up my head turbaned in a towel. She dabbed at a run or two over my face. Dawn blotted my hair then removed the towel and began to comb it all down wet over the PVC cape. She began to draw my hair back into a ponytail, gripping it tightly in her left hand at my nape. “I was wondering if there was some way of you doing my hair so I could pin it up at the back for work…” I said as I saw her reach forward for the scissors. “Oh no dear, there’s no need for that…you don’t want to have to worry about your hair each morning like that.” Her hands moved behind my head and I felt a tugging at the tail. With a grimace then a smile she lifted her hands as my head pulled free and she held the severed ponytail up for me to see in the mirror. I stared at it in horror and my hair fell in a ragged bob around my face. “A good cut will sort it out for you.” She dropped the ponytail unheeded on the floor and began to comb out sections. I watched as she eased each length of blonde tresses out then schnick, schnick the scissors bit through the soft hair and the length fell away. I simply stared in silent disbelief. She was cutting my hair off. Eight and nine inch lengths simply fell away to slide down the cape. I finally found my voice. “Erm that’s very short Dawn” I managed to mutter. “Don’t worry I’m going to leave you more length through the top so you don’t feel too shorn.” She smiled reassuringly but even as she did so the scissors closed and another length fell away. Soon she was finished. My hair now ended in a layered bob about an inch below my earlobes. “There we go, I’ve left it quite long for you Karen” she offered as she checked over the cut. We can go shorter next time when you have got used to it…” The lady to my side smiled at me in the mirror as her stylist finished winding in perm curlers. “That really does suit you dear, you look so much better with shorter hair.” I found myself smiling back at her and thanking her for the complement. I noticed then that Dawn had stepped away and now returned wheeling a trolley. She took a pack of end papers from the trolley and held them out to me. I took them and frowned. “Now let’s give you a nice firm perm” she said as she began to comb a section from the nape. “Erm I don’t know if I want a perm Dawn, they are so old…” I checked myself as I noticed my neighbour was just having the lotion applied to her rods and instead said “er my hair takes a perm really really well.” Dawn and my neighbour smiled.
“Good, I’m going to give you a nice strong perm; it will give you lots of support and help your sets to last.” And so I sat in silence and watched Dawn work, meekly handing over the end papers for her to wrap them around the ends of my chopped tresses then wind each prepared section very tightly around a perming rod. “How long since your last perm Karen” she asked as she worked.
“Oh years…” I said.
“You will love what it does for your hair” she said. “And it will last about twelve weeks between perms. You bleach your hair don’t you?” She continued to work.
“Erm yes” I admitted.
“Well that needs doing a little more often about every six to eight weeks depending upon how much you hate your roots. Of course the perm and sets help disguise roots much better than your old style,”
She started winding at the front with a small pink rod that was recessed in the centre to make it an even tighter curl her touch was quite rough and the rods very tight, her fingers moved quickly after years of doing these perms, securing the rubber strap hanging from the rods end I soon had a complete row running from the middle of my forehead back to my neck, I could feel every one of them pull. My left hand side quickly received the same treatment with horizontal rows wound closely together. Around my temple and ear she placed even smaller rods, the rest of my hair now underwent the same treatment and my scalps was tugged all over. Looking in the mirror I looked strange with all these small perm rods clinging to my head.
At last she was done. She checked the entire wind then took up a length of cotton wool which she carefully ran around the perimeter. I studied her work. I now had around fifty orange rods wound precisely into my hair. She then selected a bottle of lotion. “OK dear, time to become a curly girl again!” She began at the nape, running the nozzle of the bottle along the bottom rod. She had moved on to the second rod as I felt the cold lotion soak through to my scalp. She worked very methodically soaking each rod in turn, moving my head around with her free hand, finally tilting my head back as she soaked the rods near the front on top. Once every rod was wet with the perming lotion she moved back to the nape and began to recover her steps, carefully soaking each rod in turn. The strong scent of the lotion which had hitherto seemed strong from the client at my side almost became a fog it was so thick. With more moving around of my head Dawn recovered the rods and finally set down the bottle. She took up a plastic perming cap and carefully fastened it over my tortured tresses before stepping away with a parting smile leaving me to stare at my reflection.
“This is probably the last traditional hairdressers in town” The lady next to me said breaking my thoughts. “Er sorry?”
“There are lots of other hairdressers in town.” She said. “But this is the last one where they understand proper hairdressing. Here they are experts at perming and winding a set so you stay neat and presentable for days. I’ve been coming here for years and I have never had a poorly styled hairdo.” I forced a nervous smile and wondered about the big change in my own “do”.
After a while the perm lotion was beginning to feel very uncomfortable, the evaporating lotion let the rods dry out and they seemed almost to tighten so it felt like they were pulling at my hair. I watched the comings and goings in the salon almost in a state of shock wondering what I was going to look like and how could I as an adult woman allow anyone to just go ahead and do what they wanted with my hair. I watched the assistant sweep up the pile of shorn hair from around my chair and then scoop it up to dump it unceremoniously in the bin.
Soon Dawn came over and declared the perm processed and I was taken back to the sink. She removed the cotton wool and began to run luke warm water over the rods. She then applied another solution; this one was icy cold after the warm water. I tried to relax as this second chemical worked. Dawn soon returned with a big smile. "Let’s see what we've got then", she announced and the rods were being pulled from my hair, she soon got them all out in to the sink and took time to rinse my hair very very thoroughly. “That’s taken really well” Dawn says as she ruffled my hair with her fingers then dabbed at it with a towel before returning me to the mirror with my head cocooned in the towel.
I couldn’t see my new curls yet as I looked at my head covered in a towel. With a flourish Dawn grasped the towel and whipped it away and I gasped at what I saw, this was a real shock, my face looked completely different since no longer did long tresses hang down around it, instead I had a cluster of curls all around my head but stopping at my ears. Being damp they were a little lank and unstructured but even so they hinted at a rounded shape that was to come. Dawn fluffed them with her fingers. “You were right your hair takes a curl
really well indeed” she said. “I’ll just shape them up. She reached for her scissors again.
This trim was not as major or traumatic as the first. Dawn worked meticulously to even the ends of the curls and shape out the cut. The curls dried as she worked and began to fluff into a rounded 70s curly afro style of bleached blonde locks. MY hair looked even lighter than normal and when I mentioned this to Dawn she said this was a product of the perm which lightened bleached hair a little. As the curls dried even more my hair started to look very very blonde indeed. At last Dawn was happy and she put down the scissors. "Let's get you set then" she announced "I do like to see a young lady properly turned out, a good firm set will really finish you off well"
A section of hair in the centre of my forehead was combed up and Dawn soaked it in setting lotion which she combed through. She picked up a roller – a small roller, it had small plastic spikes sticking out, and she wound it into the lock tightly, a plastic pin was then stuck in to hold it in place. She worked quickly and soon I had a row going back to my neck. Two more rows of rollers followed from front to back before Dawn filled in the sides with more of. Before each roller was twisted in she dripped setting lotion along the roots from a narrow nozzled bottle and combed it through the tress.
Instead of the rollers at the side going in horizontally as they did occasionally when I had my long hair set these were going in vertically so I had rows going over my head from side to side around the edges she used tiny rollers and my head was quickly covered. Dawn wasn't finished yet as even more setting lotion went onto the rollers.
This set of rollers looked very severe…very old fashioned. Dawn fastened a net over my head now and tied it at the back of my neck, she inserted pads over my ears, and then it was under the dryer. that dryer.
I began to relax under the dryer cocooned by warmth and noise. I was still a little in shock at having my hair cut off and the processes of the perm so this was a chance to relax a little. Dawn sat down in the chair I had vacated and began to chat to some of the other clients. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about under the dryer, so I looked round the salon again amazed that I was actually sitting there and that I had allowed her to so radically change my image. What would I look like and what reaction would I get from other people?
Dawn’s rollers were removed by the younger stylist and I could see the tight curls left behind. I watched fascinated as the curls were each individually combed through and then she began to back comb the top creating tangled height. In front of my eyes Dawn’s hair was combed, teased, ratted and fluffed into an elaborate short confection. The stylist swept a small mirror in behind and I saw them exchange a few words before Dawn leant forward and allowed the stylist to press the clippers to her nape. I stared in horror at how the nape of her neck was shaven with the clippers and then even more amazed when the stylist went over it again with a razor. Setting down her tools Dawn was given a heavy lacquering. She finally nodded her thanks to her stylist as she prodded and poked at her hair for herself then stood up shedding the small comb out cape.
Before I could think any more about this, she came over and turned off the dryer, up came the visor and I was led back to the chair.
Dawn untied the net at my nape and lifted it clear, being careful not to move any of the rollers. I stared at how light my hair looked. She began by unwinding a roller from the top. She unwound it pulling it out upwards and the blonde tress stretched then snapped back into position as though the roller were still there. Dawn was in no hurry, much as I might be to see my permed and set hair and she took a moment to push the roller back into the trolley. She pulled the pin from a second roller and unwound that. This joined the first in the trolley. I watched in silence as she carefully removed each one leaving rigid tubes of hair. At last she was finished and all of the rollers were out. My hair looked a much lighter blonde than before and was now clustered in rigid, almost plastic looking tubes. My hair looked so short. The tubes on top all wound backwards whilst at the side they only just covered the tops of my ears.
Dawn paused and asked me to stand. She then helped me out of the gown. I felt odd with my hair still unfinished looking at myself in the mirror in my normal clothes. I sat back down and she laid a delicate, light comb out cape on my shoulders.
“Do you want to keep it curly or a little smoother?” She asked as she experimentally pulled on of the top curls out then rewound it back. “Er smoother please…”
She smiled and picked up a tailcomb.
She began by backcombing on top. Teasing and tangling the hair to create height. She combed all of the top then took time to ease and smooth the hair into a rising bouffant. With the cropped sides my hair just seemed to climb on top of my head, elongating my face (not unflatteringly). She worked all over my head, the sides and back, dressing my tortured tresses into a stark, harsh style.
I stared at my hair as she seemed to be finished. She had created a bouffant height through the top with structured curls over the tops of my ears. She teased the curls so they flowed into one another I could still make out were each of the rollers had been but the effect was very neat. When she finished I looked totally different to when I came in - then I was trendy and attractive, now with my hair curled completely off my face and my ears very exposed I looked severe and a little plain, I'd aged by at least ten years and this gave me a shock as it was old fashioned, staid and structured. “Now if this is to last until Monday you will need a good lacquering” she picked up a plastic squeezy bottle. It was the same bottle as was used on Dawn’s bouffant old fashioned style and not modern hairspray but then why not since my hair was also now in a similar old fashioned do. When she said lacquer she meant lacquer. I closed my eyes tight. Sssisss, sissss, sissss, sssisss. She started over my left ear, dousing the hair there, the cold, sticky spray falling on my ear too. Ssssiss, sisss, sisss, sssss. I felt the spray wet on my hair as she moved around the back. Sssss, sssss, sssss,sissss, around to the right hand side, ssss, ssss,sisss. She moved to the front. Ssss, sisss, sisss, sisss I felt the force of the spray moved my hair she had the nozzle so close. Then sissss, sisss, sssss, sissss over the top dousing the climbing bouffant. At last she stopped and I dared to open my eyes. She had been spraying my hair for fifteen seconds, dousing me in spray. She set the spray bottle down. I could see the lacquer shining wet on my tortured tresses. “Don’t worry I’ll give you a couple of coats”
I thought she was finished but how wrong could I be. She pushed my head forward until my chin was on the cape then she stepped around in front of me to pick up the clippers. “Now I’ll just tidy the back up so it’s off your collar and you keep matron happy.” I almost jumped at the pop sound followed by a low buzzing not far from my ear. She couldn’t possibly be about to use them on me could she with this my heart rate really picked up and my previous worries multiplied. “Erm, er, I” I tried to stutter but meekly bowed my head as she firmly pressed it forwards. Bzzzzz. I felt the cold metal blades pressed hard at the base of my neck, then felt them rising up and the note changed as it met my hair. Bzzzz they continued to rise I began to panic at how high she was going. The clippers continued to whine behind me. They touched on my neck and the sensation was electric. I squirmed a little in the chair then bzzzz they moved up the back under my stiff curls. I felt the clippers pressed in hard to my skin, vibrating. I shuddered as they moved up again and again. Dawn was careful and methodical buzzing my nape making sure she had missed no hairs on my neck. “I’m taking it off up to the bottom of your ears. That will be nice and neat and well clear of your collar even when you are sitting down.”
She clicked off the clippers then came around the chair to place them on the counter. I could feel a cool draught on my neck, so whilst she was at the mirror I quickly felt at my neck. I could not grasp any hairs on my nape, just really short bristles that seemed almost electric under my nervous fingers. ”Oh my god what has she done?” She came back from the shelf with a cut throat razor in her hand and pressed my head forwards once more. I didn’t dare to move as she gently pressed the razor to my nape and dragged over my freshly exposed neck.
"There you are Karen nothing looks better than a nice clean neck line, and Matron will be satisfied with it.” She reached for the spray bottle again. Sssss, sssss, sssss, sssss, ssss, siss, siss sssssss, sssssss, ssssss,sssss,sssss,sssss,ssss, This time I watched as she sprayed my hair, the lacquer a deluge on my cropped, permed and set curls.
She set down the spray and used the tail of her comb to lift sections a little. I was able to see how the spray had glued my hair together so the tail moved rafts of hair. She smiled into the mirror, satisfied with her work and removed the light comb out cape. She picked up a small mirror. “There we go Karen, isn’t that just perfect for you?” I found myself forcing a smile into the mirror as I stared at my incredibly transformed locks.
Dawn angled the mirror to show me the back. I knew she had worked with the clippers but I wasn’t prepared for the reality of it. The bottom of my nape was shaven away up under the rigid line of permed curls which ended just above my ear lobes. My pale white neck looked very long with not a trace of hair left on it. It was a very stark and severe look.
I stared in shock at my totally changed look. This hairdresser had not held back at all and had done precisely what she wanted with me. Before I could say any thing I was getting a final coat of lacquer. Sisss,siss,sissss,sissss. "There we are then all done" she said and gestured for me to get up. I stood and she untied the gown and I slipped it off. There was no need to move my hair to get to the cords this time as I no longer had any left at the back. "You look lovely dear a real lady now" Dawn offered as she whisked a soft brush over my naked neck. “I’ve given you a classic bubble cut and a lovely tight perm., it really does suit you and will keep Matron happy!”
She led me over to reception and I paid the ridiculously low bill. Dawn completed an appointment card and handed it over. “Sets once a week” she offered with a smile. “Cleaning up your neck is included, that’s not a cut appointment. You need a trim whenever you have colour or perm. That’s about every six weeks. OK?” I smiled my thanks and recovered my coat then stepped to the door. “Thank you, see you next week…”
I pulled open the door and stepped from the salon, I was not prepared for the cold air around my tingling neck and ears - my whole head felt light and cold. The wind however had no chance to move my new coiffure. as the thick layers of lacquer had set hard and not a single hair could move out of place. I touched my curls for the first time; they were still a little sticky from the lacquer but felt very hard and springy like a shell over my head. “What on earth have I done” I thought as I began to walk down the street.
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