This is my second attempt at writing a story specifically to suit some comments and requests by readers here at 1HSS. A different type of story to my others but I hope it is enjoyable. Once again I write from a first person perspective since this is what I find easiest. I remember the time when this story is set well. Whilst now days people associate skin heads with racists and extremism in fact when I was young many of the skins were into soul and ska music and the image had nothing to do with race whatsoever. It is this “scene” that I would like to take the reader back to…
“So Karen are you coming with me to the barbers?” I looked up at Kath with surprise.
“Erm, no I don’t think so.” I murmured.
“Why not, it won’t take long. Come with us and we can go on to the club afterwards, my hair is getting too long, I want tidying up.” I studied Kath’s hair. How could she say it was long? It was cropped to around an inch and a half long on top and swept up into a quiff. The back and sides had been clippered even closer and looked to be about a half inch long.
“I don’t know Kath; I mean it’s a barbers'.”
“I know but its not like girls don’t go there. Just wait for me so we can go down the club together, please…” Well how could I refuse my best friend and so it was that just ten minutes later we were walking into the grubby little barbershop just off the high street. I had often walked by this place but had never set foot in here before. My bobbed hair was trimmed at the hairdressers and whilst a few of my friends had managed to summon the courage to rebel against fashion and sported short barber cut hair I was just too nervous to join them. Inside the shop two barbers were working on clients in two large chairs in front of mirrors. A large bench seat ran in front of the window, Kath sat down next to a young man. I sat next to her, the vinyl felt cold on my thighs exposed as they were by my mini skirt. I looked around the place. It was nothing like the hairdressers. The scents were different – cologne and pomade rather than perm solution and hairspray. The shelves were packed with the strange and exotic and pictures on the walls showed various men with their hair cut into old fashioned styles. A buzzing noise filled the shop which I realised was the clippers the two barbers were wielding, shearing away at their two clients. The first was a young man who was being crew-cut. The second was a boy who was similarly being cropped back to within a fingernail of his scalp.
The first barber finished and dusted off his client, showing the man the back of his head with a small mirror. Murmurs of acceptance were muttered and the barber unfastened the cape before removing it with a flourish. He handed his client a tissue as he stood up then turned to the bench. “Next!” he said. The young man on the bench stood up and brushed his fringe back from his face. He paused for a moment then stepped towards the chair which the barber had spun round towards the bench. The young man walked over and plumped down into the chair. The barber span it back to the mirror then shook out the cape. He draped it over his new victim and tucked it in at the neck. Then leaving him to look into the mirror he went to the till to take the money from his first client. As the client went to leave the door opened and in walked a couple. They looked to be about my age, maybe eighteen or nineteen. The boy had crew-cut fair hair whilst the girl had a long fringe and nape but the rest of her hair was only about a half inch long. They walked to the bench. Kath slid along to the right and I followed her, the bench warm where she had been sitting. The new boy sat next to me with his girlfriend sitting on the end of the bench. I noticed they took hold of each other’s hand.
The barber walked back over to his chair where his new client waited. “What are we doing?” he asked as he picked up his clippers looking into the mirror. “Skinhead” the client uttered. Just a single word. The barber nodded and paused to remove a black plastic comb from the clippers. Then clack buzz they began to whirr. He lifted the young man’s fringe with his left hand then brought the clippers in buzzing to the top of his forehead. Bzzzzzzzzz. With a swift sweep they buzzed back over his head and I watched fascinated as the hair fell. I was even more fascinated to see that the path where the clippers had travelled was now almost totally devoid of hair, pale scalp shone through his dark hair.
At the second chair the barber was dusting off the boy who now had a uniform crew-cut that was about a quarter of an inch long all over his head. He unfastened and swept free the cape and the client stood up. With a start I realised it wasn’t a boy but a girl of about sixteen. She smiled over at us and ran a hand over her bristly head as she climbed from the chair. The barber looked at the bench. “Next.” Kath stood up and bounced over to the chair. She sat down in it and was spun around to face the mirror. The barber swept the cape around her then walked over to the till where the girl paid. I returned my attention to the first chair. The young man’s head was virtually naked already. I couldn’t believe how quick the barber had been able to remove all of his hair. Even as I watched he ran the clippers all over to make sure he hadn’t missed any. “Finish it off?” the barber asked. The client simply nodded once, emphatically. The barber took up a can of shaving cream and delivered a scoosh into his hand before he began to smear it all over his client’s head. I watched fascinated at the slightly ridiculous sight of his head covered in creamy soap. He wiped his hands then picked up a safety razor. He began to scrape it over his client’s head removing the foam with every last trace of hair.
The second barber returned to his chair. “What’s it to be?” he asked. Kath smiled.
“Flat top, trim please. Number two back and sides.” The barber nodded and picked up his clippers. Unlike his colleague however he also picked up a comb which he began to lift Kath’s top hair with. Bzzzz. The clippers began to whine and I was able to watch as he ran them along the comb, shortening the top of Kath’s hair. He worked quickly and blonde hair fell onto the cape as he trimmed the top to flat perfection. At the first chair I watched the barber as he wiped his hands then picked up a safety razor. He began to scrape it over his client’s head removing the foam with every last trace of hair. Pink scalp began to show through the swathes in the white foam. I turned my attention back to Kath. The barber had perfectly trimmed the top of her hair and fitted a comb to his clippers before pushing her head forwards. I watched as the clippers pressed in firmly to her nape.
“Next!” The first barber had finished. I looked at his client who was now standing rubbing at his smooth shiny head. “Next!” the barber repeated more stridently and with a start I realised he was looking directly at me. “Erm, er…no, er.” I managed to stutter.
“Young lady, you are next so come on over and sit down.”
“Erm I’m waiting for my friend.” I managed to force out.
“We don’t work that way here young lady, you take the next available barber you don’t wait for one you prefer so come on, hop in the chair I’ll be right with you.” I found myself rising to my feet. Could I run out the door? Kath wasn’t finished yet.
“Come on, I haven’t got all day, sit down!” The barber was firm, insistent. I walked across the shop and found myself sinking into the large barber chair. I crossed my legs trying to hide my modesty in the short mini skirt. The chair span around and I found myself staring into the mirror. He swept the cape around me. It was very light and cool, a thin nylon. He tucked it in at my neck lifting my bob out so it sat onto the cape. He went over to the till to take his last client’s money as I stared at my carefully cut bleached blonde bob with its full blunt fringe hanging into my eyes. I realised that Kath was also finished in the next chair. She stood up and walked over to the till. She smiled at me in the mirror as she walked behind me. “Good for you” she mouthed as she passed. The young man from the bench took her place and was caped.
Having shown his bald client to the door the first barber returned to me. He stood behind me and looked at me in the mirror making eye contact. “So what are we doing?” he asked. “New to the scene are you?” I sat in terrified silence looking at my reflection then managed a timid nod. Kath appeared at my side. “I didn’t think you’d have the nerve Karen. What are you having done?”
“Flat top like your friend?” The barber asked as he picked up his clippers and dusted a few hairs from the teeth. “Erm, er n-n-no…” I managed to say. The second barber was now at his chair. “Whaddaya like?” he asked and was rewarded with.
“Everyfink off.” The barber removed the comb as mine looked at me puzzled.
“Suede head then like the girl who just left? What number?” He began to rummage through his guide combs. Bzzzz the clippers began to sing at the next chair. “Erm, er, no thanks…” I was a fraction more assertive this time.
“Chelsea then,” he offered, “like to keep some length?” Kath whooped with excitement at this.
“Oh Karen that will just be so cool, you will be such a hit at the club tonight.” I stared into the mirror. What was a Chelsea? “Want back feathers or not?” He asked as he lifted my hair at the nape. “Your bob is cut in tight so we can’t really have feathers, it’s not long enough.” So my hair was a bit too short for a proper Chelsea was it, that was reassuring. It was even more reassuring as he put his clippers back down on the counter and began to comb my hair. “Not long since you bleached it” he said as he began to create a parting across the front of my head behind my fringe. “Erm, no about two weeks or so.” I answered as I watched him.
“You’ve got about a quarter inch of roots” I nodded. “Number two then.” He said and picked up a comb which he fitted to his clippers. What was he doing? Bzzzz the clippers began to whirr and he brought them up in front of my face. His left hand clamped onto my forehead, holding my fringe down and my head immobile. Bzzzz, they got louder then I felt them pressed into the top of my head. I watched in the mirror in total horror as buzzzaaaaa, they swept backwards. My blonded hair was pushed back like a wave by the hungry clippers leaving a dark swathe behind in a sort of reverse of the last young man who had sat in the chair where a pale swathe had been cut into his dark hair. Then it hit me. My hair was being cropped off. He was cutting the top hair back really short. I felt Kath’s hand on mine and realised I was gripping the arms of the chair in terror. She squeezed it. “Oh Karen you are so brave. A Chelsea will really really suit you. The boys will be all over you tonight.” Buzzzaaaaa, buzzzaaaaa. The clippers continued to chew over the top of my head and more hair fell. Long lengths of bleached hair onto the shoulders of the cape or sliding down into my lap. I risked a glance at the next chair. The young man was virtually bald. His head had been cropped closer than mine, back to bristles.
The barber moved his free hand to the back of my head and pushed my head forwards a little roughly. I stared at the mass of blonde hair in my lap as I felt the clippers on my neck. Bzzzzzaaaa, bzzzaaaa. I felt them sweep up the back, the motor blowing warm air over my nape. Bzzz, bzzzz. The barber continued working all over my head. Leaving the fringe and the area in front of my ears strangely untouched. I realised my hair was going to be short, very short but what was he going to do with the front? “Next” I head from the second barber and realised he had finished. I heard his girlfriend take a seat just as my head was released and I was able to look into the mirror. At first glance I didn’t look any different but the mass of blonde hair on the cape showed this to be blatant optimism. I turned my head and gasped as I saw dark bristles behind the blonde lengths in front of my ears. Inclining my head I could just make out the same effect on the top. The barber ran his hand over the top and I felt it stroke over the bristly hairs. “There we go, a number two, that’s a quarter of an inch so back to your own colour, like the contrast of blonde and dark?” I studied it for a moment in total shock.
“What are we doing?” I heard the second barber ask the girl in the next chair. She paused for a moment before she answered. “I’m keeping the Chelsea but I want it shorter than hers…” I looked at her through the mirror. She sounded challenging, almost hostile as she stared back at me. “Number one then?” the barber asked. “Lose the feathers?” she nodded and the barber reached for a small comb to fit to his clippers. My barber grinned into the mirror. “You gonna stand for that?” he asked as he swept over my neck with a soft brush. “Sorry?”
“We gonna do something about that?” What did he mean? Was she challenging me?
“Erm, er, I’m not…”
“Look most of your hair is on the floor, we might as well finish up.” Kath squealed with delight.
“Oh go on Karen, you’ll look so cream!” I realised what was going on. With a flash of revelation I realised I might as well embrace this change. I lifted my head proudly and stared at the barber in the mirror.
“Sure, why not?” He looked at me a little puzzled to begin with then grinned.
“Number one then, like hers?” I glanced across and noticed that she had bristles left on her scalp, perhaps an eight of an inch long. Just a little shorter than mine. My new resolve held firm and in a surprisingly steady voice I heard myself say. “No take it all off, just leave the front.” The barber smiled and put his clippers down. He picked up another pair; these were smaller and had a wide t-shaped cutting head. “You’ll still be blonde then if I get rid of this dark…” he said. Bizzzz. These clippers had a new sound, a higher, faster note. He placed them just behind my fringe. I lowered my head slightly so I could watch as he dragged them back through the dark quarter inch spikes. With a thrill of excitement I watched a white shorn swathe appear across the top of my head, just a hint of shadow left behind. “Wow Karen you are amazing.” Bizzzz, Bizzzz. The barber worked quickly denuding the top, back and sides of my head with his little clippers. “These are the edgers, get you down almost to zero.” He said as he worked. I looked at the girl in the next chair who had bristly scalp in contrast to my own near naked head. Her boyfriend stood next to her. “You going shorter too Linds?” he asked rubbing his hand over his own smooth pate. She looked over at me then shook her head. “No I can’t go for a real skinhead, not bald.” I managed a magnanimous smile at her as her barber brushed over her scalp with the soft brush. I looked up at the man who was finishing clippering my head. “You going to finish it off?” I asked him. He looked at me lifting one eyebrow.
“You want it finishing?” I nodded.
“Shaved smooth?” Once again I nodded my assent.
“All off or keeping the fringe.” The edgers still buzzed in his hand and he began to swing them round in front of my face. “Erm, er, maybe next time. Keep the fringe just do the rest.” He nodded and set down the clippers.
The girl was dusted off and the cape removed as my barber began to smear the cold shaving cream over my head. She walked to the till with her boyfriend. I stared straight ahead into the mirror ignoring her as the razor began to scrape over my scalp. The door opened and not daring to move my head as the razor scraped hard on the top of my head I was able to see three young men enter with my peripheral vision. All three had short crew-cuts, maybe a quarter of an inch. The second barber span the chair around – “got one empty here boys” and the first walked over to sink into the chair. The other two sat down on the bench. My barber moved onto the side of my head, leaning me over to the left slightly, his free hand clamped on my smooth crown. I watched my skin emerging from the foam as the second barber returned to his new client. “What’s it to be?” he asked. The young man gave me a broad grin in the mirror, he was really good looking I noted and returned his smile. “Cool cut.” He said and I found myself blushing. He returned his attention to the barber. “Well if she can go smooth I suppose should too.” Both barbers smiled into the mirror at us. “All off, down to the wood.” The second barber picked up his clippers and they began to sing as my barber continued with his razor making sure he had every last bristle. The clippers were whirring at the next chair as my barber finished. He used a towel to wipe all over my head. It was surprisingly rough on my sensitive scalp. “There we go, one Chelsea but a full skinhead, all off but the fringe. Down to the wood!” He winked at the young man in the second chair who was already almost bald. “Shaving once a week or you’ll have dark stubble OK.” I nodded suddenly realising what I had done as I felt the soft brush whisper over my naked scalp. “If you want to come in twice a week I’ll give you one shaving a week on the house, keep you smooth and shiny. You’re a good advert for the place.” He unfastened the cape and whisked it away from me. I stood up on shaky legs, taking the tissue he offered to me but just holding it in my hand as I walked slowly to the till. “Who’s next for a balding?” he asked as he turned the chair towards the bench. One of the young men stood up and walked over. “Let me feel it Karen” Kath asked as her warm hand stroked over the top of my head. “Wow that is amazing, none of the other girls have ever dared a real skinhead.” The barber held out his hand. “That will be £2.50 for the cut and shave. Shaves are 1.75p but like I say you can have a freebie a week if you are keeping it smooth.” I handed over three pounds and waited for my change. “Don’t tip me” he said with a grin. “I enjoyed doing you…”
“I would too” said the young man in the chair with a cheeky grin. “Going to the club tonight girls?”
“Maybe…” Kath answered aloofly. I pocketed the 50p change.
“See you in a few days” I said with a smile at the barber. “My friend will be back too, she needs to go shorter.” Kath squealed as I turned to the guys. “Of course we’ll be at the club, where else would a couple of skin girls be on a Friday night. See you there?” It was their turn to blush. With my head held high I stepped out of the shop into the street feeling the sudden breeze and sunshine on my naked scalp and ready to start the next chapter of my life.
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