Image is everything: Hair, rock and human flesh.
After weeeks of waiting to get my haircut (the extra “e” is because it really was a long time) I got a voucher from lovely Groupon to go sort myself out (at least physically, if not emotionally). You see, I no longer believe in paying a normal price for things, bargain shopping is the new black, or Friday, or acai berries, or something…
Before
The lucky recipient of my custom was Michael Barnes in Covent Garden. I’m a very punctual person, to the point of obsession, so I actually had 20 minutes to kill before my appointment. Luckily for the geek in me, the hair stylists is across the road from Forbidden Planet, so with the money I saved on scissor-work, I bought a comic. It’s called Transmetropolitan and it’s brilliant. The main character is a journalist (one of those hard-hitting ones, not the kind who blogs about spa treatments). He begins with a massive mop of hair down to his bum, while living in the wilderness, but upon moving back to the city, shaves it all off. Perhaps it’s a sign? Should I get the bic treatment?
Um, no. Instead I ask “the man” to leave the length but give a shape. Satisfied that I have given vague enough instruction to test his skill, I settle back into that chair they wash your hair in and get a conditioner treatment and head massage. You also get a pot of the stuff to take away with you in a vain attempt to keep the style looking as good as when you leave. I am informed that I only need the after-sun treatment, and use it sparingly as my hair is in good condition. This makes me happy.
Having initially declined the offer of an alcoholic drink, in favour of coffee, I am asked for sixth time if I wouldn’t just like to have a bit of wine. Despite my dodgy stomach (still suffering from various forms of abuse from the Stag weekend) I feel it is my duty to sample it, Oz Clarke style, so that I can check it is up to standard for you people.
After
It was white, with a taste of wine…
Hmm, might need to work on those sommelier skills, at any rate, it wasn’t offensive.
Then the cut – what can I tell you? My stylists brother works in Foley (that’s putting the sound effects into films, post-production). He tells me about all the strange objects that he carries around with him just in case they make a good noise. He sounds like a klepto, but rather interesting.
He then asks if I’m going out that evening. I tell him I’m off to see and review a play about gay cannibals. He pauses, then re-examines my hair, as if deciding what look would suit such an occasion.
After the cut I have an hour before the show to wander around the nearby British Museum. There’s always something new to discover, and I’m delighted by today’s revelation that the phenomena of seeing the face of a deity, or celebrity in an inanimate object is not so new and ridiculous. I literally laughed out loud in the “Nature Imitating Art” section (and got some dirty looks) when I found a stone “depicting” Canterbury Tales author Geoffrey Chaucer.
Later that evening, at the gay cannibal play, I get more strange looks for walking around with a single tub of hair conditioner (well I declined a carrier bag because I want to save the planet!) I was hoping that people would be looking at my new hair, sigh. I suppose image is only the most notable aspect of your character – whether it’s your bald head with a spider tattoo, your claims to cannibalism, a literary legacy that extends to rock formations, or that tub of suspicious cream you’re carrying around.
Today’s Deal for Southampton
(Running till the end of Monday 21st June 2010)
£10 instead of £50 for a soothing head massage and oil treatment, followed by a wash, cut, re-style and blow dry from Valentino’s Hair Design – Save 80%
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before was better dude