Welcome to this Monday’s issue of my now continuing morning coffee series, a short form newsletter to land in your inbox every day this week. If you missed introductions, or would like to know how to opt out of daily e-mails like this, check out the updated housekeeping post . Though I think that instead of opting out, you should stay.
I know that the last time I wrote about my hair I said that it was everything you never wanted to know. And, at the time, that was true. But “everything” expanded to include more stuff, so welcome to the update nobody was looking forward to.
On Saturday, on a complete whim, I called up our other local salon to see if they could fit me in later that day. The thing is though, that place is for *reverent whisper* men AND women! They do both, in the same place. Like some sort of nudist beach. Wokeness gone mad! But they agreed to fit me in so quickly I didn't have time to consider whether it was all too French for me.
Speaking of wokeness, you will be so impressed. Once again I had a man cut my hair and this time I didn’t think twice about it; that’s character growth right there. I guess when I’m witnessing men being barbered right there in the next seat over, the details of who is doing my own hair become small and insignificant. I was so preoccupied wondering if it was all even legal, that I, by complete accident of course, started eavesdropping.
I realised two things: first, this is therapy for men just as much as it is for women. And second, you can really tell how a guy is doing by what he’s telling his barber about his hair.
“I just feel like 4 days of the week I wake up and it looks great but the other three I have no idea what it’s doing. I’d just love to feel like it works every time,” I hear coming from my right. I wonder the depths most guys my age would need to reach into to extract and bring to the surface this level of vulnerability. “It just doesn’t feel like it’s working for me right now.” This is about hair?
The barber nodded sympathetically as he stepped back to assess the back of the guy’s head. Within a few seconds he came up with suggestions that would leave the man’s hair simultaneously requiring half the maintenance and at least five times more likely to have even the mean secretaries at work put his printing needs above Michael’s from accounting.
I was becoming angry. Imagine, imagine waking up with perfect hair four out of seven days? And not only that, there is a solution for the other three days?! The world is truly a rotten, unfair place. Meanwhile, lovely Enrico was giving me the step by step instructions on how to wet my finger and press the roots of my new fringe in exactly the right place to get it to lie down at the right angle away from my scalp. Us girls, we need to have special training. Special training, a membership with The Magic Circle, and three types of brushes that, if used incorrectly, require external assistance to remove.
Only a couple of months ago I had a very fun (read: unpleasant) conversation with a 17 year old boy who was claiming that since feminism already won we can all calm down about it now.
Unfortunately, there’s no amount of righteous indignation that will stop me from performing the daily satanic ritual to get this hair to look the way the Creator (aka Enrico) intended. “It’s just another twenty minutes of effort added to my already pretty involved skincare routine”, I count in my head. “It’s okay… I could do that…” I lie to myself, both about the time involved and the level of skill required to have this whole thing put together.
Sue me, I’m part of the problem. I just wanted to look cute. I didn’t mean to play into the oppressive patriarchal norms and their continuing disregard for the ever increasing intensity of labour and cost involved in trying to conform and keep up with those standards. I just wanted a fringe like the popular girls back in fifth grade.
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Good morning friend, happy Monday! I already know you look cute but on top of that I wish you a week full of low maintenance great hair days.
I don't think I've ever been to a salon that wasn't mixed—though my grandfather took me to a barbershop once that was only for men. It was unpleasant. A lot of places around here are now charging either by length rather than gender or they have a nonbinary pricing alongside men and women's. So, yes, hair is very political. In my youth it was perhaps one of the most political everyday actions a young person could take.
"I was becoming angry. Imagine, imagine waking up with perfect hair four out of seven days? And not only that, there is a solution for the other three days?! The world is truly a rotten, unfair place." I just love the way get so much out of a visit to the hairdresser. I don't know about hair, but it seems to me that you have words very well under control. Groomed to perfection even.