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For me it was always about the music. I’d never quite got into punk but as soon as I heard those ska bands towards the end of the 1970’s and early 1980’s, I knew they were for me. Bands such as The Beat, The Selecter, and The Specials were at the forefront of the ska revival in England and I couldn’t get enough of them. I was 13 years of age in 1980 and about to make the difficult journey from boy to man. I was searching for an identity, and in ska I had found what I was looking for. I loved it all, the music, the culture, the fashion, and within all of that I really felt that I belonged.

 Slowly, but surely I’d been adopting the look, saving my money to purchase the critical elements of the fashion – Ben Sherman shirt, red braces, sta-press trousers, Doc Marten boots and a Harrington bomber jacket. I’d bought the Doc Marten boots only last evening and today would be the first day I’d worn all of it together. Today was Saturday, and it was the day I would finish the look. The hair was wrong and I was fixing that today. I couldn’t wait to get to the barbershop and I’d hardly slept the night before with the excitement and anticipation of what was to come. It was 8.30am as I began to dress and I was keen to get out and meet my girlfriend Tracey before the barbershop opened at nine. We’d arranged to meet outside of the shop and I was ready to embrace the change. I dressed and stared at myself in the mirror, approving of what I saw, before leaving the house and heading to the barbershop.

I’d been having my hair cut in this same barbershop ever since I was young and it seemed almost nothing had changed in that time. The place was in need of a paint job, and reeked of stale tobacco and brylcreem. A rickety wooden bench ran the length of the back wall and there was a small table in the corner with a bunch of faded magazines, which nobody ever read. The only addition in recent times was a third chair which the owner’s daughter now operated. The owner was an old guy named Bill and his daughter was around 18 years old and obviously following in her father’s footsteps. I’d watched her grow up in the shop over the years but I still couldn’t remember her name.

Saturday morning was always the busiest – all three chairs were occupied and there were 5 people waiting as Tracey and I entered the shop. I hung up my Harrington on one of the pegs on the back wall and took a seat on the bench. Even though the shop was crowded, things generally moved fairly fast and I knew I wouldn’t have too long to wait. I was nervous and excited at the same time and I could feel my cock stiffening with the sounds of the clippers and the thought of having my hair cropped. Two of the chairs were finished already, and the guy in the third was having an all over crewcut so that wouldn’t take long either. As people moved from the bench to re-occupy the chairs everyone waiting on the bench shifted along slightly to the left.

 I’d always enjoyed visiting the barbershop – the smells, sights and sounds were just so intoxicating and for reasons I couldn’t explain watching people get their hair cut somehow turned me on. Today was no different and I could feel my hard cock pushing against the zipper of my sta-press trousers. Bill’s daughter finished the crewcut and the next guy waiting moved into her chair. There were now only two people ahead of me and my time was getting closer. I closed my eyes and leaned against the back wall thinking about how I would look after my haircut. There was a cry of ‘Next’ and I could feel everyone on the bench shifting to the left again. With only one guy ahead of me it looked as though it would be Bill’s daughter cutting my hair and I could feel my cock tightening once more at the thought of this as I’d never had my hair cut by a woman before. The second chair was finished and the familiar cry of ‘Next’ saw the guy on my left step up from the bench and move to the chair. I was now at the furthest end of the bench and would be next in the chair. I could see Bill’s daughter dusting down her client and as she swept the cape off him she looked over at me and gave the familiar cry of ‘Next’.

My legs were trembling as I stood up and I could feel myself shaking as I moved towards the chair. I could see her looking me up and down, taking in my clothes as I moved towards her and I blushed slightly as I felt certain she knew that my cock was bulging. I nodded at her as I settled into her chair and watched in the mirror as she wrapped the cape around me. She was quite attractive with long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, and today she was wearing a white blouse, short cut-off denim skirt and a pair of white trainers. I sat there staring at my image in the mirror as she moved to the cash register to settle up with her previous client. A few seconds later she returned and before turning to speak to me, she lit a cigarette, took a long drag and blew a long trail of smoke into the air. Finally she moved over to the left hand side of the chair and stared down at me. I waited for her to ask how I wanted my hair cut, but she already knew. I watched her lips move and only one word was uttered

 “Skinhead?”

 It was more of a statement than a question. My clothes had already told her what I wanted and my cock stiffened again as I nodded in response. The sound of that word ‘skinhead’ just felt so good as it hung in the air between us, and she’d already lifted the clippers before asking her next question.

“How short?”

I heard myself say “The shortest” and that was enough for her to get started.

Without hesitation there was a clack and a buzz as the clippers burst into life. There was no messing about in a barbershop on a Saturday morning and without ceremony she ploughed the clippers down the centre of my head and my hair began to hit the cape. It took no time at all for her to completely buzz my head to a very short stubble, the cigarette hanging from her lips as she made pass after pass over my head. In less than 5 minutes she was brushing off the stray hairs from the top of my head and neck.

 The smell of her perfume mixed with the cigarette smoke was having a major effect on me and I could feel my cock stiffening even more as I breathed in those fumes. I thought I was done as she took another long drag of the cigarette, blowing smoke across the newly exposed bristles on my head. She paused to stub out her cigarette in the ashtray on the counter and I was surprised when she turned towards me and fired up the clippers once more. Assuming she was just neatening up what was left of my hair I was shocked to see white scalp appear where the clippers had passed over my head. She continued as quickly as before peeling more and more of my hair from my head.

 With a sense of growing horror I realised that she was shaving me bald. With a jolt I felt my hard cock let go and I could feel warm juices pumping out into my underwear. I could feel my face getting redder and redder, contrasting sharply with the white scalp that was being revealed at the top of my head. My mind was racing and I was beginning to panic. In the mirror my head looked completely bald as Bill’s daughter had almost finished with the clippers. Having only ever had my hair cut in short back and sides before, I realised that I hadn’t fully understood the clipper settings. I’d naively thought that a grade one was the shortest setting and I’d known that this setting left a little bit of hair behind. However, I had obviously gone well beyond this and I was now almost completely bald. In the mirror I could see the shocked look on Tracey’s face as she stared intently at the back of my head. I could feel warm, sticky fluid on my leg and my sense of rising panic increased as I realised that removing the cape would likely reveal a large damp patch on the crotch of my pale grey trousers.

 Bill’s daughter was finished with the clippers and I sat there terrified as she began brushing me down. The entire cut from start to finish had taken less than ten minutes. Gazing down at me she said “There you go – full skinhead” and then followed up with “You want it shaved?”

My mouth was dry as I managed to whisper “not today, maybe next time.”

“Okay, if you change your mind pop back in later today and I’ll finish you off, on the house.”

With that she whisked off the cape and shouted ‘Next’. My eyes immediately shot downwards to my crotch and I could see a little wet patch just beginning to form. With any luck I could just cover it up with my jacket before it spread any further. Before I could make a grab for my jacket Bill’s daughter was behind me, brushing the stay hairs from around my neck and shirt. I could sense the damp patch growing and it was only a matter of time before someone noticed.

“Thanks” I stammered and then moved quickly across the shop to grab my jacket.

 Holding it over my arm where it discreetly covered my crotch, I moved over to the cash register to pay. I could sense most of the people in the shop staring at my bald scalp as I fumbled in my pocket for my money. Bill’s daughter smiled at me as I handed over the three pounds for the haircut.

 “Remember that offer of a shave still stands” and with that she moved back across to her chair to begin her next cut.

I felt a calloused hand rub my scalp and turned to see Bill squinting at me. “That’s quite a change for you son – guess you’re done with the short back and sides for a while.” I could only nod in agreement as I grasped the door handle and moved out of the shop.

I hadn’t yet felt my head as I’d been almost afraid to do so, but once on the pavement outside, my hand shot up to touch my newly shaved head for the first time. I felt sick as my hand rubbed over my scalp. Only the very shortest of stubble remained and as this was blonde, nobody would be able to see it anyway. To all intents and purposes I was bald. My head felt like very find sandpaper and I knew I’d made a huge mistake in accidentally going this short. Tracey also rubbed my head, whispering only one word as she did so “Fuck…..”

 I needed to get home to change though I was dreading the reaction from my parents. I’d have been in trouble even for a grade one, and they would definitely hit the roof over this. I’d also likely be in trouble at school, but I’d deal with that on Monday. I began walking up the street, rubbing my head and gazing at my pale white scalp reflected in shop windows as I passed. I could tell that Tracey was also completely shocked with my new look and had this confirmed when she blurted “You’re fuckin’ bald, oh man – what did you do?”

I could see people staring as I passed but my initial shock was wearing off and I was starting to feel good about myself again. I finally had the complete skinhead look – though shorter than I’d planned. I now had an identity and for the first time in my life really felt that I was part of something. I rubbed my stubbly scalp again, and grinned at Tracey as some kids across the street began a chant of “skinhead, skinhead over there, what’s it like to have no hair” before running off….

Tracey and I burst out laughing and hugged each other in the middle of the street. Life was good and I was now a ‘proper’ skinhead. My cock gave another twitch as the thought of heading back to the barbershop later that day crossed my mind for the first time. Somehow I knew that I’d be seeing Bill’s daughter again very soon. I grasped Tracey’s hand and continued to grin as I headed home to face the music.

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