Posted by: canthold | January 16, 2009

Sophisticated New Do

My husband and I went to a contemporary art museum in Lisbon, Portugal when we visited on vacation. There was some really weird stuff in there, let me tell you. Besides the full sized sculpture of a naked man and woman, horizontally engaged on the floor, just short of pornography being photographed, (of course!) by the high-school-aged kids on a field trip, there was only one other thing that I remember.

The painting was the size of a full wall and it reminded me of Guernica, by Picasso. We looked at it for a little while, just taking it in. I remember really liking it, but was unable to put my finger on why exactly. Finally, a museum docent came up and asked us if we had any questions we’d like answered. I think we said no, but somehow, anyway, we ended up having a conversation with her about this painting. The painter was, in fact, inspired by Guernica and I don’t remember the details, but there were a few parallels between the two paintings. I remember being very glad that she engaged us and felt a greater appreciation for the painting after knowing the meaning behind it.

I had a very similar experience tonight when I got my haircut. For the past six-months I’ve been getting my haircut by a wonderful stylist in the ‘hood. She’s very good and very expensive. I feel terribly guilty spending so much on a haircut, but I thought that somewhere in there I was getting what I paid for. I had the whole elaborate and pampered experience. The problem with going to this fabulous stylist was that since she’s so good, she’s hard to book. Since I’m so picky about my hair, even though I claim not to be, I’m hard to please. I wish that I could cut my own hair the way I want to. But I can’t. Even she, a fantastic stylist who deserves high praise, does not always make me happy.

So, after walking around with an over-due-for-a-haircut do these last few weeks, and knowing that I couldn’t get into my fru-fru salon, (nor fit the bill into my budget this month,) I went to…(drumroll)…Supercuts. The price was right. (There weren’t any Great Clips salons anywhere near me or I would have opted for the $8.99 sale price.)

The stylist at this particular location was very sophisticated. He even took his time as he greeted me to make sure that when I walked in that I wanted a haircut. He didn’t make any assumptions. He let me do the talking. We discussed what I wanted while he examined my wildly-out-of-control curls. He spritzed a few times and started cutting. I was done in about five-minutes. Maybe ten. Maybe.

I asked that my hair be cut into a straight bob. Straight meaning the line along the bottom of my hair would be straight. The thing is, though, that this guy knew  that I was just the same un-knowing person from that Lisbon art museum. He knew that I didn’t understand what I was looking at, nor what I was saying. We I said “bob” in reference to my hair, he interpreted, as a true artist would, that what I really  meant was “bob” as in “bob for apples.” And everyone knows what you bob for apples in, right? A bowl. His artistry took me past “bob” to “bowl.” I have a bowl cut. Can you say, “Yikes?”

I have yet to appreciate the full insight into his artistry. He just might be more sophisticated and intellectual than I am. What do I know, anyway? And if I book an appointment now for the eight-weeks that it will take to get an appointment with my girl, my hair will be long enough for her to fix.


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