I have had a haircut! The four ‘boho’ headbands that, out of desperation, I found on Amazon when things got really out of hand and the mirror wasn’t my friend, can now be put away, hopefully, never to be needed again.
I went locally to a new salon. I thought about this very carefully. Since stopping work three years ago, I had continued to travel on the underground to visit the hairdresser close to where I used to work. We had a lovely relationship. My stylist and his family even stayed for two years running in the oversees apartment I own. I had a special ‘mate’s rate’ every time I went for a wash, cut and blow dry. I could meet a former work colleague for lunch, and browse around the shops afterwards. It was a lovely day out that I looked forward to every eight weeks.
With lockdown lifting, and the tantalising prospect of a haircut after July 4th on the horizon, I faced a dilemma. Was I prepared to commute on the London underground at this shaky stage of relaxation of the rules, just to get my hair cut?
The levels of guilt about being a disloyal client, coupled with the fear and uncertainty of travel that this dilemma caused cannot be over exaggerated. In the scheme of things these last four months, longing for a haircut was trivial, but I needed to feel like me again, and have something to look forward to.
I spent many an hour scouring local salon websites, looking at cuts and styles, scrutinising reviews and crossing fingers that they were genuine, before finally biting the bullet and booking online.
It was a very weird experience on the day. Masks and visors - no offer of tea or coffee, no celebrity magazines to read. Not allowed to touch anything. No familiar gossip. Limited chit chat.
But it was so worth it.