HaircuttingStories.com

This story has been written in response to feedback and requests from some of the members of this community. Thanks to Edith, Classiccut, F35H, Pomadepeter and Elnetty for their input. It aims to be very descriptive and accurate in the process but also explore the feelings and motivations. It is dedicated to my very special friend and collaborator Jamfart.

A note on the ratings system – I have tried to change my work to suit different readers. Feel free to rate this story but if you rate low (i.e. 1 or 2) then please be polite enough to offer some constructive feedback in the forums area.

The phone was ringing and I listened for a reply. At last it answered. “Good morning, Edith’s, can I help you.” The voice on the other end was a little sing songy as though they had said that phrase a thousand times. “Erm, er, yes…yes please.” I struggled for a moment to find my voice. “I would like to make an appointment to have my hair done please.” The voice on the other end paused for a moment.

“May I ask who is speaking?”

“My name is Karen, Karen Coleman.”

“You’re not a regular client are you Ms Coleman?”

“Erm no, I’m not but you were recommended to me.”

“Really, by whom?”

“Well actually by Mrs Lillian Thompson.”

“Lillian recommended you to us?”

“Erm yes, you see I am dating her son James and was looking to change my image and she suggested you might be able to help as her hairdresser.”

“So you are walking out with young James are you. A very nice young man, he sometimes comes in to collect Lillian. May I be so rude as to ask how old you are?”

“I’m 28, why?”

“Well we are what you might call a more traditional hairdressers. Are you sure you would not be better off at a more modern place?” This was the crux of the matter. What was I doing phoning this salon for an appointment and not going to my usual stylist? My mind was made up however. “Erm no, I am looking for more of a traditional style, in fact I want something very traditional, and Lillian seemed to think you would be perfect.”

“Well that is very kind of her to say so. If you are sure you want a traditional hairdo then I think we could offer you an appointment. We are not really taking on new customers but if you can assure me that you are not wasting our time I think we could fit you in.”

“Oh no, I am definitely not wasting your time”

“You do realise that you will be getting a very traditional style if you come here. Not some modern foofy look?”

“Yes, that is precisely what I am looking for, I want you to give me a more conservative and mature  look.”

“Well you say that now but you should rest assured that if we make you an appointment you will be putting your hair into our hands, we will be determining what you need doing and you will not be able to say, oh I just want a trim please. Is that OK with you?” I gulped for a moment and paused. I realised I had already started on this path and I had to continue.

“Yes, of course.”

“That means a proper haircut - we will decide how short it will be, how it will be styled and possibly even the colour.” Oh my this was getting out of control. Even so.

“Yes, whatever you want.”

“From the moment you step into the salon you will simply allow us to do what we wish?”

“ My hair will totally be in your hands – you can do anything you want.” What was I saying? “Very well then, on that understanding when would you like to come in?”

“Erm as soon as possible please.”

“OK then let’s say this very afternoon, should we say 2pm?”

“That will be perfect. I’ll see you then. Thank you. Good bye.” And with that I hung up. My mind was in a whirl. Was I doing the right thing? James did so want me to change my look to fit in with his views and preferences. His mother had been kind enough to recommend her own hairdresser to me now I had gone away and actually made an appointment. Did I have the resolve to go through with it?

                        Edith replaced the telephone handset and turned to her colleague Edna. “Seem’s we have a new lady coming in for a restyle!” Edna across from where she was rolling perm rods tightly into the hair of Mrs Parsons, a regular client. “Really? You don’t normally accept new clients, I thought we were winding down?” Edith nodded as she walked over.

“I know but this one might be a bit different. She’s young, 28 she said.” Edna raised an eyebrow at this. “It seem’s she walking out with Lillian Thompson’s boy James and Lillian recommended she come here.” Edna stopped for a moment and looked at Edith with a look of puzzlement on her face. “Lillian always has one of your most no nonsense styles, I would hardly have thought she would recommend you to a young client.”

“I know. That makes me think Lillian wants to see this girl with a severe style like hers or she wouldn’t have suggested it. In fact Lillian mentioned her to me yesterday when she was in for her cut so she obviously quite likes her.” Edna picked up another perm rod and began to comb and wind.

“Well this young girl would never have it like Lillian’s would she, she’ll just ask for a trim or something.”

“Well that’s what I thought so I got her to promise me that she wasn’t wasting our time and that she would be happy to have a more traditional style.”

“And she agreed to that?”

“Yes she did. She even said that she would put her hair totally in our hands and we could do it however we thought best.”

“You’re kidding, she never agreed to that?”

“She did. I said that it would be up to us how short we cut it, how we styled it, even what colour it was. She said her hair would be totally in our hands.”

“Oh my, well she must be up for a big change then. Is she going to come in?”

“Yes at two pm this very afternoon.”

“Oh I’ve got Mrs Willis then.”

“I know but I’ll share the fun with you. We’ve got a young woman who is willing to let us do whatever we want with her and I think it needs to be something pretty major”

“And if we are going to please Lillian Thompson it’s going to have to be pretty severe too.”

“Mmmm, I suppose so.”

At one pm I started to dress for my appointment. I had showered but worn a polythene cap to keep my hair dry so now stood naked in my bedroom. I looked through my wardrobe, I needed to look quite plain and traditional, not trendy and modern. I started with a plain bra and a large pair of knickers. My largest and most sensible actually thus hardly worn. Next I pulled on tights then paused to select an outfit. I decided my most conservative look would be a blouse and skirt. A plain white blouse with quite a mannish cut, especially the collar that I usually wore with my skinny jeans looked very prim when I teamed it with a simple knee length navy skirt. With a flash of inspiration I buttoned up the collar and rummaging around in my jewellery box found quite a heavy brooch, a gift from an elderly aunt, which I pinned at my neck. It looked a little Edwardian but I needed to appear more mature and sophisticated. Whilst I was rummaging in the jewellery box I spotted a pair of ear rings. These were simple domes, about a half inch across with simple pin backs. I popped them in, they looked so old fashioned I caught myself smiling at my reflection. Next I needed a jacket. None of mine seemed suitable at first glance, all far too trendy or boho. Wait a minute, there, a navy cardigan, perfect. An unwanted Christmas gift from the same elderly aunt completed the outfit. Very prim and proper I thought admiring myself. My simplest court shoes, luckily navy too and I was dressed. I ran a brush through my hair. A natural brunette I had a mahogany rinse adding a slight reddish tinge to my chin length bob. The fringe was long, hanging down over my face if I brushed it forwards. Today however I combed the sides back carefully and gripped both sides in place behind my ears with clips. “Ready” I thought and transferred a few essentials to a plain handbag before heading for the door. My nerves were already jangling but I had resolved to go through with this. James had swept me off my feet. He was the perfect gentleman, caring, compassionate and supportive. We had been dating for nearly six months and I was now keen to put things on a more formal level. James still lived at home, looking after his elderly mother Lillian. He was no mummies’ boy though. He held down a good job, was confident and assertive. He just seemed to have old fashioned values which in my eyes just made him all the more scrumptious. James always dressed conservatively in collar and tie. His hair was always very short and well groomed. I had never seen him looking anything but perfectly presentable. I must admit this order and reliability I found incredibly refreshing and attractive after dating other young men who could best be described as slobs.  I understood why James was such a gent when I met Lillian. She was as immaculate as her son and I liked her instantly. She had been polite but I could tell she was less than impressed with my jeans and top. To try to curry favour I had complemented Lillian on her hair. It was very short, curls through the top and with the back and sides cut to within a fingernail of her scalp. It was almost mannish and quite severe but even so it suited her perfectly. She had waved off the complement graciously complaining she was in need of a visit to the hairdressers. We had enjoyed dinner and an evening of conversation. As I was leaving James had been getting my jacket and Lillian had dropped in. “You could visit my hairdresser Karen if you felt like a change.” I had been taken aback for a moment but even so managed a polite, “really, thank you.” Lillian had continued. “James has been brought up to expect a certain level of decorum from young ladies. I am sure he would appreciate it if you tried to meet his own dress standards.” I realised I was being very gently chastised for my own scruffy appearance. Lillian was also showing that she liked me enough to encourage me however and I was pleased when she paused to write something down on a slip of paper. ”This is the number for my hairdresser, ask for Edith, she’ll make a lady of you…”

As James was driving me home that night I had broached the subject with him. “Do you think I need to smarten up my image a little darling?” I asked him. He paused and thought for a moment.

“Well you know I love you.” My heart raced at this. He didn’t realise but this was the first time he had actually uttered those magical words. “But I must be honest and admit that I would like to see you smarten yourself up.” I nodded with my eyes downcast.

“What do you mean by smarter” I asked, fishing.

“I like a lady to look like a lady.” He said. “Conservative and respectable.”

“Immaculately presented like you mum?” I asked him.

“Y-yes,” pausing once more to think. “Conservative and mature says to me this is a lady to care for and nurture. A wife rather than a conquest.” He was almost thinking out loud I realised as he concentrated on his driving. This conversation was far more revealing than I could have dreamt. Not only had he admitted his love for me but he was talking about the qualities of a spouse! I pressed him a little harder. “But your mum is a bit old fashioned though and her hair is very short.” He risked a glance at me and looked a little stern. “Fashion is simply a distraction. Good manners and breeding can be shown in a respectable appearance. For a woman to step outside the dictates of trends and concentrate on looking presentable and respectable shows she is ready to settle down and accept a lifelong commitment to a husband and family.” I felt I had overstepped the mark now and had to try and reassure him.

“Oh I see, of course darling, I had never looked at it like that. A lady can make a statement with her appearance of the values she wishes to live by and be judged by.”

“Precisely” James answered with a smile.

“Your mum wears her hair very short but it looked lovely on her.” I attempted to change tack slightly.

“Yes short hair on a woman  shows she is very confident and self assured. Even so she has it styled regularly  so it is obvious she is a woman of some sensibilities” It was my turn to nod.

“I understand, by having it dressed she is making it clear she is a lady and not just wearing short mannish hair, it’s a confident statement.”

“James nodded again.” Absolutely right darling, her hair is a definitive statement of her attitudes and values.” For a few minutes we drove on in silence whilst my mind raced. I then chanced the million dollar question. “Would it please you if I changed my appearance a little, looked more respectable and mature?” James glanced at me now with a very broad smile.

“Darling, nothing would please me more and it would be a wonderful gesture to me of how you felt about me.”

“So you would like me to look more conservative, perhaps change my hair. I wouldn’t look too severe for you?” James seemed to misunderstand my use of the word severe.

“Karen there is no way you could look too severe. The more of a statement you make with your appearance the more emphatic that statement is. Severe means commitment since it is a gesture of permanence. The more severely you present yourself the more I would take that as a sign of your feelings.”

“And if I had my hair cut shorter?”

“I would only love you even more.” He said so with that it seemed the stage was set. I needed to show my man just how much I loved him and how committed I was to him so I resolved to giving Edith a call.

I walked up to the door of the salon. From the outside it looked just like an ordinary house but as I got closer I saw a sign through the glass panel of the door. “Edith Potter. Ladies’ Hairdressing”. So this was it, this was where James’s mother got her hair done and where I had an appointment to keep. As I stepped up to the door the nerves almost became too much for me and I almost turned to flee back to the car but steeling myself I took hold of the handle and pushed the door open. I was immediately met with a wall of warm air heavily laden with the scents of shampoos and hairspray but with an underlying layer of ammonia from perms and tints.  Immediately behind the door a partition with frosted glass stopped people looking in from outside so turning to the left I found myself in what was obviously once the front room of the house but was now a small and very old fashioned hair salon if salon was not too grand a term for it. Three ladies were standing in the middle of the room. One was just being helped into a wrapover gown by the others who both wore pink salon overalls. All of the ladies looked quite elderly. In their sixties at least. I was half tempted to turn and make a run for it but they all turned to me and smiled. I noted that all three had short curled hair, judging by the scents in the salon the product of good perms. The client had round curls whilst the two hairdressers sported different looks. One had silver grey locks in a sweep of waves over the top. The back and sides were very short, even shorter than the half inch or so worn by James’s mother. The other had round full curls in what could only be described as a helmet style. “Can I help you young lady?” It was the second hairdresser who spoke. I licked suddenly dry lips. “Erm I have an appointment, Karen Coleman. Mrs Thompson recommended you to me.” She smiled and nodded.

“Oh yes, you must be James’ young lady. Lillian told me all about you when she was in for her cut yesterday. Come on then let’s be having you.” It seemed to take just moments to surrender my cardigan to replace it with a nylon gown and I was soon sitting on an old vinyl and tubular chromed steel chair in front of an aged mirror and alongside the other client.

The first hairdresser with the shortest hair placed a towel on her client’s shoulders whilst mine seemed to study me for a moment before saying. “Would you excuse us for just a moment ladies” before both retired through a door at the back of the salon.

                                    “Well what do you think Edna?” Edith asked as soon as the door had closed.

“Well she looked smartly enough turned out didn’t she.”

“Yes but her hair is obviously one of these trendy bobs that she has tried to pin back.”
“I noticed that. Looks like she is ready for something more traditional”

“That’s just what she said on the telephone. Lillian was a bit less charitable though yesterday when she was in for her cut.”

“Really what did Lillian say?”

“She said she deeded a damned good tidying up. If she wanted to land a husband she needed to start dressing like a lady not a boy and she needed a damn good haircut.”

“Well Lillian didn’t mince her words then?”

“Not at all. So I think this young lady needs to leave a lot of her bob on the floor.”

“Will she go for that?”

“She said it was up to us and she would happily let us do what we felt best so obviously she is keen to please Lillian.”

“Yes but Lillian likes her hair like mine, very short and well permed. Is that what she means for the girl?”

“It’s true Lillian likes her hair extremely short, she had me take all the back and sides off yesterday for her. I’m not sure she thinks that is what this young lady should have  but I think we must consider that a possibility. Lillian obviously likes her or she wouldn’t be talking to us about her and she would not have recommended to the girl she come here. I think this young lady is looking at quite a transformation, don’t you?”

The two hairdressers returned and this time introduced themselves to me. Without pause however Edna pressed her clients head forwards into the sink as Edith removed the grips from my hair and began to run a brush through.

 “So then young lady you are looking for a more traditional, mature style are you?” This was it, the moment of truth. Could I back out now? “Erm, y-yes, P-please.” Edith smiled.

“Good and as we agreed on the phone you are ready for a big change not just a trim.” I gulped and nodded. “Y-yes please, I want something much more respectable.”

“It’s going to be very different for you, you understand that?” I managed a nod.

“I don’t like your current style, you need a good cut and some lift so are you ready to put yourself in my hands?” There was no way for me to run now so I found myself nodding grimly.

“Well in that case there is no point in procrastinating is there let’s sort you out…” She swept a nylon cape around my shoulders and fastened it at my neck. I stared into the mirror. I always feel my most vulnerable at this point, draped in a cape with just my head uncovered. My nerves began to jangle. This was it, time for the big change. “Right then Karen if it’s traditional you want and you are looking to impress Lillian Thompson then your hair has to be shorter, the question is just how short?” She combed up a layer at my crown. Being bobbed this was perhaps my longest length, maybe nine inches or so. “Erm, er, well…” I began but Edith cut me off.

“Now, now we agreed your hair is in our hands didn’t we?” I looked down at my lap subdued. “Good” She picked up her scissors and they hovered in front of the tress. She moved them down the length until they stopped about six inches from my scalp.  I realised that the lady in the next chair was sitting up and watching me through the mirror. Edna too was watching me intently. “If we give you a little trim” (I didn’t consider three inches a trim) “then we can give you a nice full style with lots of height and lift.” I gulped but managed to maintain my composure. The scissors moved down to four inches from my scalp. “Cutting you to here we could have a classic bubble cut. Very smart and very presentable.” I nodded meekly. “Or if we go to here…” the scissors now seemed no more than two inches from my scalp, “We could have a lovely poodle cut.” My eyes widened in terror, that meant most of my hair coming off. It was Edna who now joined the conversation. “Are we going to give Karen some curl Edith?”

“I really think we should, don’t you?”

“Of course, all our clients have their hair curled. The question is do we just give her a set or is she ready for a perm?” Edna was dabbing at her client’s head with a towel as she spoke. She laid the towel on her shoulders and I could see tight curls clustered over her head. She joined the conversation too. “A set on it’s own is not really enough is it? You want a nice perm don’t you dear?” she addressed the question directly to me. “Oh er, erm…I…” It was Edith who answered though.

“Yes I think we’ll go for the perm”

“Well in that case the rods we use will dictate Karen’s new length.” Edna replied. “So which rods are we using?”

“I think we need to go shorter so that means red, blue or pink rods or maybe grey at a push.”

“I think grey are just too big. Red is for very short hair…”

“Lillian has red rods…”

“Well yes but that might be just too short.”

“Blue or pink then.”

“Blue I think.”

“Well that tells you how short her hair needs to be.” Edna smiled and Edith nodded.

“OK so then are we looking for curl or wave.”

“Oh it’s got to be a nice tight curl….” This was the client’s input.

“I think you are right Mrs Willis.” Edith returned her attention to me. “OK Karen it looks like you are going for a darling little poodle cut.” She relifted the lock which she had allowed to fall and brought the scissors in close. They opened then hovered abut two and a half inches from my scalp. I stared in rigid terror as they grew closer, closer then schnick. They chopped through the tress and more than six inches fell free. “Er, erm….that’s very short.” Edith scooped up another section and schnick.

“I am cutting it all back to two and a half inches, we call it club cutting when it is cropped to the same length all over we can perm you then and you’ll have a lovely head of nice tight curls, a perfect traditional look.” Schnick. Another tress fell. I sat in silence, tears burning my eyes as she continued to work. Edna began to twist rollers into her client’s hair. Schnick. More hair fell. A tear rolled down my cheek mirroring its descent.

“Don’t worry dear, you are going to look lovely, it’s always a bit of a shock going short. Don’t be upset I won’t take it too short.” I sniffed and forced a timid smile.

“It’s OK, take it as short as you want. I think Mrs Thompson and James would like to see it extremely short, perhaps as short as hers.” Schnick, more hair fell along with a tear or two.

“Lillian was in yesterday and mentioned you. I think she is rather fond of you.” Edith answered kindly as yet another tress was cropped. I am sure she will really appreciate you doing this to meet her standards.” Schnick. This time the tress fell from over my ear. The ear now poked pinkly through my dark hair. This was going to be short. Shorter than I had ever had it.  Edith combed all of my fringe down over my face. I couldn’t see now. She moved around in front of me. “I’m not going to take you as short as hers to begin with though Karen.” Schnick, schnick, schnick. The scissors crunched through my fringe and I felt them on my forehead. As the hair fell away I could suddenly see again but my view of the mirror was obstructed by Edith herself. Edith moved and I was able to see in the mirror. Oh my! My fringe was gone, it now ended short and blunt above my eyebrows, very severe. This woman hadn’t finished though she just continued to work all over my head and hair continued to fall. I looked at the chopped tresses as they collected in my lap. I consoled myself with the thought that I had asked this lady to do this and that I was doing it for James. Suddenly the scissors seemed to have stopped. I looked into the mirror. Edith had stepped away. My hair had been slaughtered. I now had short ragged locks in a cropped almost urchin style. What had I done?

“You are going to look lovely with a poodle cut dear” Mrs Willis offered as Edna was finishing winding in rollers. “Erm, what is a poodle cut?” It was Edna who answered.

“Your hair is cut to about two and a half inches now. Edith has gone to get the perming rods. She’s going to use the blue ones which are the second smallest size. This will give you lovely tight curls in a even perm all over your head, it’s called a poodle cut since it’s a bit like the fur on a poodle. You might think of it like a short afro perm…” I stared at her incredulously, she couldn’t be serious could she? “Of course we don’t let it dry like an afro perm but set it into a nice neat style for you. It will be like Edith’s but perhaps a little shorter than hers. It’s a delightful, simple and plain traditional cut but is also well on the way to a really short cut like mine or Lillian’s. With this cut and perm as a base it will be no trouble at all to whip the back and sides off if you want so it’s like Lillian’s.

Edith returned with a box of curlers and a pack of end papers. She handed them to me and I held them in my lap. “Give me a paper then a rod in turn please dear.” She said holding out her hand for me to comply. She began at my forehead. The first rod was wound in tightly at the middle but going forwards. The next rod was just behind this but winding back from my face. She continued winding, 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 more small rods, the rest of my hair now underwent the same treatment and my scalp was tugged all over. As she was working Edna finished with Mrs Willis, carefully netting her rollers then installing her under a dryer. I looked in the mirror at Edith’s work. I looked so 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 blue rods wound precisely into my hair. She laid a towel onto my shoulders then picked up a bottle of lotion. “OK dear, time to become nice and curly!” 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. “It’s a big step having your hair permed, after all it is permanent, the only real way to get rid of the curl is to cut it out. Still it is such a help to the style and is so practical and convenient, I am sure you will love it.” 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 was almost overpowering. 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. She turned to Edna, “there we go, that will process nicely.”

“Which lotion have you used?”

“The strongest, I want a lovely firm curl.” Edna  nodded. 

“What finish are you going for?”

“I’m just going to do a standard set and comb out and not tease too much.”

“So a typical poodle cut then?”

“Well yes but I think I’ll dress the curls in to one another a bit more, make it smoother, more of a helmet style. I might take the fringe up a bit, see how it frames her face.”   These ladies were talking about me right there in front of me but as though I couldn’t hear them or didn’t matter.

“You’re not going any shorter then”

“Apart from the fringe?”

“Yes.”

“Well I’m going to lift the neck of course.”

“Of course but I was wondering if you are going to lift the sides too, more like mine and Lillian’s” Edith studied me for a moment looking thoughtful. I stared at her dreading her answer. Unfortunately when it came it did little to still my nerves. “I’m not sure, I might do. I’m sure Lillian would appreciate me taking the sides up leaving just a top perm. The poodle cut is halfway there, it will be no trouble to whip the sides off if we want to, lets see how the perm turns out.” At that she stepped  away with a parting smile leaving me to stare at my reflection.

I was left to my nervous imagination for the next half hour as the perm solution worked on my locks. I moved to a seat at the driers and was able to see as Edith swept my shorn locks up from around the chair. There seemed to be so much dark hair on the floor. Mrs Willis was returned to the chair. She smiled into the mirror as Edna removed her net and earpads. She then began to unpin and remove the rollers. The curls left behind were rigid white loops springing back into the shape they were coaxed into by the rollers. It didn’t seem to take long for Edna to remove all of the rollers. She then picked up a hairbrush and a comb and surprisingly began to run both through Mrs Willis’ white hair. It looked as if she was trying to pull all of the curl from her hair even though it had painstakingly been put there by the rollers. At this point I was disturbed in my observations by Edith who led me to the sinks. I settled back and she removed the cap and cotton wool. She began to run warm water over the rollers. It felt odd to have the water running over the rods which were still tightly wound into my hair. Once she was ahppy she had rinsed my hair she allowed me to sit up, wrapping my head with the towel. She then began to blot each of the rods with the towel. This process complete she took up another roll of cotton wool and replaced it around my hairline. She snipped the top from the nozzle of a bottle then once more ran the nozzle along the rods. The liquid within was cold as it seeped through to my scalp. She soaked every rod twice then set down the bottle. “That’ll take ten minutes to neutralise dear.” She said as she stepped over to Mrs Willis. Edna had been teasing her hair into place. She was fluffing it into a round balloon of curls, quite bouffant , lifting maybe two and a half inches from her scalp on top. As I watched she backcombed the roots then smoothed the ends over the top. From time to time she paused to scoosh a little hairspray into the roots of Mrs Willis’ hair. For her part Mrs Willis simply smiled beatifically into the mirror and chatted to Edith about family and friends. Edna seemed to be happy at last with her work and set down her comb. She then picked up what I realised were a small set of hair clippers. She pressed Mrs Willis’ head forwards a little. Mrs Willis didn’t protest or resist but simply looked down into her lap, not even pausing in her conversation. Edna lifted the back of Mrs Willis’ hair and as I watched she ran the clippers up her nape. I could see how they chewed through her white locks, leaving naked scalp behind – she was shaving Mrs Willis’ neck. She wasn’t just trimming away at the hairline removing a few wayward hairs she was literally shaving the back up about an inch or so under the curls at the back. Mrs Willis was totally unphased by this and continued to chat to Edith even as she was allowed to lift her head once more. Edna picked up a can of hairspray. Mrs Willis smiled. “Give it a really good lacquering today Edna, I’m going out tonight.” Edna smiled and nodded and pressed the nozzle. Sssssssss. I watched as she began to soak her client’s hair with hairspray but at this point Edith walked towards me declaring it was time to rinse out my perm.

I leaned back into the sink. Edith removed the cotton wool and placed a dry towel on my shoulders. She then began to unfasten and unwind the rods from my hair. She dropped each one into the sink, I could hear it fall. “It’s taken perfectly Karen, you’ve got lovely even, tight curls.” She said trying to reassure me as she unwound every rod. It took a few minutes to take all fifty out then she began to run warm water through my hair once more. It felt strange. I wasn’t sure if it was the curls or the fact my long hair was gone. The water just felt very odd flowing over my head. I was soon rinsed to Edith’s satisfaction and I was allowed to sit up, Edith blotted my hair then wrapped it in the towel. Edna had finished and Mrs Willis had left whilst I had been unwound and rinsed. I was allowed to stand and walked over to the mirror. I sat down and both Edith and Edna stood behind me. “Are you ready then?” Edith asked with both hands on the towel. “Ready?” I asked dimly.

“To see the new curly you!” Edith smiled.

“Oh put the poor girl out of her misery Edith” Edna interrupted. With a flourish and a cry of

“Tadaaaaa.” Edith whipped the towel away and I was left staring in total and abject disbelief at a head of tight short dark curls. “Oh my?” The comment slipped from my mouth unbidden and I clamped it shut quickly. Edna smiled. “Edith you have permed it perfectly. They are the most lovely little curls, so cute.” Edith smiled in acknowledgement. “And you got the wind so tight she is curled right down to the scalp.” I stared at my transformed hair. I had walked in with chin length straight hair, now I had short tight curls. What had I allowed these ladies to do to me? A few curls hung down onto my forehead but my fringe stopped short of my eyebrows whilst at the sides the curls just covered the tops of my ears. There was no question that I now had short curly hair, even shorter than Mrs Willis I thought.

Edith began to run her fingers through the curls. “Now Karen your hair grows around a half an inch a month and I have cut it back to about two and a half inches long. That means in about eight to ten weeks around half of each curl will have grown out straight. This will cause your style to droop so you will be ready for your next perm then OK.” I nodded meekly into the mirror. “You mustn’t wash it for at least five days to let the perm settle down. When you do you can either fluff it and let it dry naturally or you can roller set it. If you let it dry naturally you will have a cute little afro ‘do. If it’s not structured enough for you you can run over it with the hot tongs for definition to get a sharper shape to it. A wet roller set is best though and should last five days or so. It’s probably best you come in for a shampoo and set once a week to stay looking good.” She took up a wide toothed comb and began to tug this through my short curls, fluffing them a little. “Now a nice roller set for you today OK. Your hair is pretty short so our styling opportunities are a little limited. You can either go for a smart everyday set or something more formal. I suggest the everyday look to let you get used to it.” I nodded meekly into the mirror once more.   “But first just a little trim to make sure you have no split ends from the perm.” picked up a smaller comb and combed up a section from the back. She slipped the scissors from her pocket. Schnick. The scissors closed on the soft tress. I couldn’t see how much she was cutting but simply stared as she worked. I hadn’t expected to have my hair cut again, not after her having cropped my hair quite so severely. There wasn’t too much to worry about though as she only spent a few minutes tickling the ends of my cut. She picked up a plastic bottle from the counter. It had a long nozzle like the perming solution had and the liquid inside was a bright pink colour. She used a wide toothed comb to draw my fringe upo and back, the curls resisting the comb. She then ran the bottle along my hairline. The liquid inside was cold - not as cold as the perming solution though. It had a strong musky perfumed scent rather than the ammonia smell of the perm. It could not however disguise the scent of the solution and nuetraliser that seemed to hang around my head. “This is firm hold setting lotion it allows your curls to hold their bounce for the best part of a week.” She said as she saturated all of my hair with the musky smelling liquid.   She pulled over the roller trolley from Edna’s station and began to select small yellow curlers, the first of which she skilfully twisted into my hair just behind my fringe locking it in place with a plastic pick. She worked swiftly but methodically, combing a section through carefully then winding in a roller nice and tight to my scalp. The rollers were quite small but even so my hair only just covered them unlike the perming rods which had been wound over and over. Each roller was secured by a single plastic pin pushed through anchoring it to my scalp. Edith changed to pin curls at my nape which she fastened with metal wave clips. Finally two smaller rollers were wound into my fringe curling down over my face. Finally she was finished. She pressed on the rollers with her palms making sure they were all secure – I felt them digging into my scalp a little uncomfortably. Next she unfolded a hair net and gently laid it over my head making sure she had the front covered before drawing it tight at the back. In some ways this looked even stranger than my perm had done even though the band of cotton wool was absent. The foam pads over my ears tucked in further seemed to heighten the feeling of strangeness and disassociation with what was going on around me. Happy with her work she removed the towel and cape then repositioned the cape on my shoulders before she  led me over to the dryers. I sat down as she adjusted the hood and made sure some magazines were in reach then left me in the cocoon of warm air.

Of course sitting under the dryer gave me lots of time to think about what I was doing. My decision to come here had been relatively spontaneous. It was the product of my desire to please both James and Lillian and to show my commitment in the hope that James would feel he could openly commit to me. Part of me also wanted to be able to step aside from the pressures of fashion and adopt a more mature and respectable outward appearance. Finally the idea that I would appear more confident was definitely attractive to me. Even being relatively comfortable with my decision to change my image I was still taking stock of my roller coaster emotions in the process. Whilst I had expected a big change I had not expected such a major change and such an irrevocable change with the perm.

After a half hour Edith came and felt around my head and declared me dry. I stood up and walked over to the chair, nervous at seeing my finished style but also a little excited. She slipped the towel from my shoulders and replaced it with a small comb out cape. She untied the net and I was able to see the hair dry, dark and shiny on the rollers. She began to work very quickly, pulling the picks from rollers then twisting them free from my much shorter locks leaving bouncy tubes of almost plasticky hair. I stared at my reflection hardly recognising myself. Once all of the rollers were free she paused for a moment. Next she took up her tailcomb and began to run it through the curls, coaxing them into shape. She worked methodically and carefully easing the sides and back into shape. At the top she paused to backcomb. Her practised hands moving like lightning her face a study in concentration. She backcombed carefully easing each lock into frizz which she then smoothed with the help of the wire handle of her comb. She carefully eased the comb through the fringe and drew it down over my forehead, it stopped about a half inch or more above my eyebrows. Edith combed through several times then reached for her scissors. She brought them in close to my forehead as I stared in wide eyed disbelief. She had already chopped most of my long fringe off and she intended to go shorter still. Schnick, schnick, schnick. The shining scissors were cold on my forehead as they closed. I shut my eyes as dark locks began to fall past them. When I opened them again it was to see the harshest of short blunt fringes – a real helmet fringe. She fussed over my locks for a few more moments. I stared at the balloon of curls she had created. She had fluffed, teased, backcombed and coaxed my freshly permed curls into the starkest of plain styles, literally a balloon of short, tight curls.   

Edna looked at my reflection in the mirror as Edith was finishing up the dressing of my new curls. “Do you think we ought to go shorter?” she asked. Edna looked up.

“I’m not sure what do you think?” I looked at both ladies, Edith with her own helmet perm and Edna with her hair in permed waves on top but cropped closely around the back and sides. “Well you did say you might cut it like Lillian’s, seemed to be what the girl wanted.”

“Like yours then but keeping it dressed as curls on top rather than waves?”

“Yes but you are going to struggle with that.”

“Why?” Once again these ladies were talking about me as if I couldn’t hear them or, more to the point, as if my opinion didn’t matter. “Well you have done such a good job of giving her a really tight lifting perm you have got movement right down to the root. You’ll have to take it pretty short to get it to lie.”

“Well I can cut it like Lillian’s”

“You mean a skinning?”

“Yes.” What on earth did she mean by that I wondered?

“Yes, a full skinning.”

“All off round the back and sides then just leaving the top perm.” All off? I couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Erm, er, Edith, what do you mean by all off? Mrs Thompson has her hair about a half inch on the back and sides.” Edith smiled at me.

“That’s how long it grows out to in a month between trims. When she has it fresh done she just has me take all the back and sides off with the clippers, it’s a bit extreme but lasts her the full month that way. We call it a skinning because we take it back to the skin…that’s how I did it for her yesterday when she was in.” She paused for a moment looking at my expression. “Now you said you thought Lillian and James would like to see you with your hair cut extremely short like hers…” the comment was left hanging in the air as my mind raced in turmoil. Edna smiled at me as she ran a hand up the back of her own Lillianesque style. “It’s so easy to look after, so practical and tidy, you’ll love it dear. Mmmm I think I’m ready for a trim Edith.” Edith nodded and smiled.

“So Karen is that what we are doing? Are you ready for a skinning? Shall we zip the back and sides off for you, just leave the curls on top?” My mind raced. Was she really asking me if I wanted the back and sides of my head rendering bald? She wasn’t serious was she? If that is how Lillian has hers though it would undoubtedly earn her approval. What should I do? I licked at dry lips as I prepared to answer. 

Edith picked up the clippers. They clacked noisily then buzzed in her hand. Her left hand pressed my head forwards. I stared down over the cape at my shoes and the salon floor. My heart was beating like a drum. I said nothing, I felt numb, almost in shock. She paused to rearrange the a towel over my neck. I stared into the sink, compliant yet horrified. I felt the clippers hard on my neck. Bzzzzz they swept up gently. I tried to judge the distance, perhaps an inch, maybe two. Bzzzzzzzz. Then they paused and returned to the bottom. I was waiting fro them to keep going, up higher and higher as she had described but instead the clippers returned to my neck before they carefully swept up my nape, again and again. I could feel how the back of the clippers pushed against my new curls, their permed and set springiness causing them to resist the clippers progress. At last she seemed satisfied and the clippers fell silent. I slowly lifted my head expecting my hairstyle to have changed dramatically but it still looked pretty much the same from the front. Edith moved to the left and the clippers began once more. This time at my sideburn and I was able to watch as she pressed them to my skin. They moved up slowly, the back of the clippers seemingly lifting my curls out of the way but I could see of the teeth of the clippers were chewing into my hair. Not only see but hear as they changed note, The motor seemed to have to work a little harder as the teeth met hair. Edith paused a moment and lifted the hair above my ear with her left hand. The clippers pressed in once more. I could see now how she cropped an area maybe three quarters of an inch above my ear. No not cropped, shaved. The clippers left just shadowed pink scalp in their wake above and around my ear. I relaxed a little as I realised she was not going any higher but was actually just trimming around my ear. She smiled benevolently into the mirror. “Don’t worry Karen I’m not giving you a full skinning this time just outlining your new ‘do.” She moved to the other side and I was able to watch as the clippers worked around that ear. Edna interrupted however. “Well I think you could trim her up nice and short properly straight away. She stepped up close behind me as Edith clicked off the clippers. Edna pressed her hands into the side of my head, lifting the curls up away from my face. “Shave the back and sides nice and high and just leave a cute little top perm. I looked at my reflection then up at Edna who was sporting the same sort of style as she was talking about giving me. “It’s such a simple, practical style, the girl would look lovely and Lillian said she needed a damned good haircut. Let me have the clippers Edith and I can have all this off in moments.” Edith came to my rescue.

“No, not this time.” She said as she replaced Edna behind me. “It’s been a big enough change for the girl, she’s lost most of her hair and gone for the perm, I think we can leave the skinning for her next visit.” She picked up a comb and scissors and carefully snipped away just above my ear creating a harsh blunt line and revelling some of the shaven area at the top of my sideburn. “There that’s better” she said once both sides were neatened up. I shuddered as she whisked a soft brush over my sensitive nape.

She picked up a large can of hairspray from the counter in front of me then pulled the towel up over my neck.  She moved around to the front and pulled at my fringe with her left hand. She pressed the nozzle. Sssssss. The sticky spray began to fall on my tortured curls. Ssssss. She held the can as she doused the front of my hair. I hurriedly squeezed my eyes shut. Ssssss the can was moved around my head, sssssss covering the left side then around the back. Edith kept the nozzle pressed as she walked around me. I opened my eyes and watched her as she sprayed my hair, swirling the can around my crown. She had the can very close to my locks and the powerful spray pushed into my curls. As she moved the can onto another area my permed tresses sprang back into place. Edith ran the can over the top then around the side and back again. I could see my hair shining wet with hairspray at the front, odd droplets collecting where a stray hair overlayed the neatly dressed curls beneath. Back to the front once more and I closed my eyes. For twenty seconds she had been soaking my hair with the spray. At last she stopped and set the can on the counter. She took her tailcomb and for a few moments poked and prodded at my hair, making minor adjustments. Finally she seemed to be happy and rocked back to look at me. “Is that enough lacquer for you dear?” she asked as she scrutinised my hair. I felt I had enough hairspray to hold a hundred hairstyles so quickly answered, “er yes, perfect thank you.” She stepped out of the way and I could see the full finished effect in the mirror.

I had walked in with a sleek modern bob. That was long gone. Facing me now was a woman who looked a good twenty years older than the one who had walked in. This woman sported what could only be described as a helmet style, a hairdo that would have been old fashioned when I was born and was doubly so now. My hair had been cropped to short lengths and then chemically tortured into tight curls. Those curls had been set then dressed into a dark balloon of hair around my head. The fringe dominated my face stopping high above my brows. The sides terminated in a curled under line just above my ears. In front of my ears careful scrutiny showed pale patches where my sideburns had been shaven away so as not to distract from the perfectly executed perimeter above. Edith picked up the small mirror and with a practised flourish dropped it in behind me. I stared at the hairstyle she had created. The curls were perfectly dressed over my head but stopped abruptly halfway down my ears. Below this my nape was pale. The clippers had removed all of the hair from my nape, not clippered it back really short but shaven it to shadow. A real old lady finish. The mirror moved around behind me and I found myself almost reflexively nodding. “How’s that for you Karen?” she asked. The reflex continued as I heard myself responding as I always did. “Erm very nice thank you.” How could I be polite after this?

“I’ve left it longer for you but if you really want we can take the back and sides off next time OK?” She set down the mirror and ran the soft brush around my new hairstyle. Then she took the towel and small cape from my shoulders. She put her hands on the back of the chair and I stood up. She walked to the small desk and I followed, almost in a daze. Edna recovered my cardigan and helped me into it as Edith worked out the bill. “A restyle cut is £6 and a short hair perm is £11. That’s full price, discount is for pensioners. Shampoo and set is included in the perm but a shampoo and set on its own is £4.50. Trims are £4 neck trims are just £1 with a set though. So that’s £17 please. I pulled my purse from my handbag and handed over a twenty pound note. “Erm keep the change.” I said then realised what I had done. I had just tipped the woman who had massacred my hair. “Thank you that’s very kind.” She answered. “Now you can wash your hair and let it dry on it’s own and you’ll have a nice afro finish.” She offered as she popped the money in the till. “Don’t wash it for at least five days though, let the perm settle down a bit OK?” I nodded my reply. She walked around the counter and looked closely at my new hairstyle. “Most of our ladies pop in for a shampoo and set once a week. More if they have a function or something to go to and they want dressing up.” It was Edna who continued.

“So if you want to pop back in a week we can give you a nice set. If you want we can take it a bit shorter too. Give you a good skinning.” Edith scowled at her colleague as she pressed the curls up above my neck. Her hand felt warm on my nape. “A poodle cut like yours needs reperming every ten weeks or so. By then you’ll have over an inch of new growth and the perm will be dropping. OK?” I nodded and thanked the ladies again before turning to leave. Effusive goodbyes followed me as I stepped from the salon and pulled the door behind me.

The breeze and sunshine hit the back of my head together as I turned to walk towards home. I felt very self conscious. There was no other phrase for it but that I now had very short, curly hair. I simply looked straight ahead as I walked trying not to notice if people looked or stared as I headed for home.  I allowed a tentative hand to reach up to my hair. Gently I pressed onto one side. It no longer felt like hair. My soft silky locks that had slid though my fingers were now hard springy curls. Curls locked rigid by hairspray making my hair feel stiff and dry. What had I done? It seemed to take forever to walk the half mile home then I walked to my front door my nerves bubbling once again. I turned my key in the lock and stepped in closing the door behind me now in the blessed sanctuary of the house. “Hello Karen we are in here!” My mother’s voice from the kitchen. We? “James is here waiting for you. Like I said James Karen has been to have her hair done.” I had to go straight in, was denied the chance to go up to my bedroom and examine my new haircut in private. “Let’s have a look at you then.” I walked through to the kitchen and slowly walked through the door. My mum and James were sitting at the table drinking tea. James stood up as I walked in. “Oooooh, Karen.” My mum beamed at me. “You look simply darling….” I stepped further into the room and felt my cheeks colouring under their scrutiny. “Oh my goodness you’ve had it short.” I paused for them to study me my eyes locked on James. His eyes were wide, his gaze intense. “I didn’t expect you to ask for it quite so short, and the curls...” Mum continued to chatter. “Is that a set?”

“It’s a perm too mum, permed then set.”   She stood up and stepped towards me. James was still immobile. Mum stepped up to me and with a hand on my shoulder gently span me around. “Wow that is so brave of you…” she said as she saw the naked nape. I jumped a little as I felt her fingers on the bare skin. “She cleaned the neck all up for you then?” I turned around slowly and nodded. “Yes, she shaved the back and round my ears.” My eyes found James’ once again, willing him to understand I had done this for him. His face broadened into a smile. “She’s cut it incredibly short Karen but you know it really really suits you, you look wonderful. Have you got an appointment to go back you will need regular trims and sets?”

“They said I needed a shampoo and set in a week but I haven’t made an appointment yet but they also said that with the tight perm I could just let it dry naturally if I wanted.” I was immediately reassured by mum but what did James think. “Erm, er.” His first words were hesitant. “Sorry, Karen you look fabulous.” I felt a wave of relief wash over me. “You look amazing, lovely.” I looked at the ground for a moment. “It’s not too short? I was a bit nervous when I asked her to cut it…” 

“No, it’s a bit of a shock but you look great, absolutely wonderful.” James’ words were like honey. My mum offered her own reassurance. “You look perfect darling, it really, really suits you.”

“She was going to take it a bit shorter even, cut all of the back and sides up to the top like your mum wears it James but then decided this was short enough, a big enough change for me but thinks I should have it even shorter next time..”

“I think your hair really really suits you so radically short darling.” My mum gave me a big hug. “You are very brave asking her to cut it so dramtically but you look really smart. Now go and hang your coat up and have some tea.” I turned and stepped from the kitchen but was stopped in the hall by James’ hand. I turned back and was swept up into his strong arms, melting into his embrace. “Do you really like it?” I whispered nervously into his chest. His lips stroked across my forehead, his breath warm on my face. “I love it, you look amazing.” I relaxed then with relief pressing myself into him. I felt his hand move to my neck, gently rubbing up my naked nape. “It’s not too short?”

“Of course not, it couldn’t be too short silly.” The sensation of his fingers on my skin were electric. “You had the back shaved?” He squeezed me to him even tighter.

“Yes, she used the clippers and shaved it bald.” His fingers stroked sensually over the bare skin.

“It’s perfect, just perfect.” I raised my face to his to see him beaming at me, waves of love and affection seemed to sweep over me. “And she was going to cut it even shorter?” He asked.

“Yes, one of the ladies said I wanted it a bit shorter like your mums and even though I had had it cut this short  she asked me if I wanted her to take all the back and sides off, all of it right up just leaving the perm on top. She called it a skinning.” His mouth drew close to mine, I could feel his heart beating. My lips lifted to his, ready for his kiss.

“All off? A skinning? Wow.” He paused and his lips just stroked mine tantalisingly. “Well my brave girl, maybe next time…” He said, “Maybe next time.” He stared at me for a long moment. I opened my mouth to speak. He cut me off. “Wait... don't say another word, Karen... sssh, not a thing. Just let me look at you. Karen... My Dear Karen...  you are so beautiful. You did this for me? My God,  I love you.” He turned towards the doorway and called through “Mother Coleman...  You won't mind if I call my future mother in law, Mother... do you? Just look at your little girl, Karen !  She's grown up to be a beautiful Lady.” Mother in law? Did he really mean that…

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