This is Dylan.
Dylan is an important person in my life, for he is the one who cuts my hair. Being a hairdresser means that I can show his face! He has been cutting the kids hair for years. Dylan is not your average hairdresser. He is a barber. One day, he had finished cutting their hair when I asked him whether he could have a crack at mine.
And I have never looked back.
If you are a short haired lass like me, I would like to present some key findings that have made themselves apparent, after I ditched the traditional hairdresser, for a man’s barber.
Now, before we begin, I must preface by saying that this will not be for everyone. I have a mate, Annie, for whom a visit to her hairdresser is counted as a social night out. She takes a bottle of wine, picks up some Thai and spends hours gossiping with her hairdresser. She is also blonde so THAT alone takes some maintenance.
But for me, that time spent was irritating.
Switching to a barber has been a god-send. I do not have to make appointments EVER. I just am out and about doing errands, when I may walk by the barbers to find there is no one waiting. They don’t have a “file” on me. There is no fucking around getting my hair washed, and the consultation is thirty five seconds. There are no trashy magazines to read, telling me how shit I am. There is no chatting with the apprentice about her trip to Bali. There is no pressure at all to buy expensive hair products because jesus woman, “You cannot use Pantene!”
The actual cut takes just minutes. He is like Edward Scissorhands.
Having shirt hair is truly one of the biggest favours I have done for myself recently. Summer was a joy! A quick towel off at the beach and I was done. On the rare occasions that I have the need to get dolled up, a quick wash, a blast with the dryer and a spray of whatever, and I am good to go. It used to take me an hour! Plus it always looked bad because I had so much hair that would not comply within the suggested follicle behavioural guidelines.
“I wish I could cut my hair off!”
So many people have said to me. Once I tell them that DER THEY CAN they ALWAYS come back with this line…
“I am worried I will look like a lesbian…”
And then it takes all my will-power not to karate chop them in the neck. Stupid stereotypes.
Anyway, yes back to the barbers. I do get quite a few weird stares from passers by, but slowly the word is getting out that there is an excellent barber in Chatswood who likes cutting women hair into cool, short styles. So please, keep this between us and I would hate people to discover The Groomsmen in Chatswood because it will ruin it for everyone.
Oh and I forgot. The other two benefits? The big, traditional barbers chairs are perfect for napping. And it costs $35 a cut. CHER-CHING!
Would you consider going to the Barbers?
Who cuts your hair?
Bonus Question for ten points. Why is the barber pole red, blue and white?
PS Just re-read this and if you are about to write some long-winded comment about how awesome hairdressers are and that I am anti-hairdresser, save your time. I also think they are amazing. After all, I have been going to them for 43 years.