Sitting In The Hair Salon

Some months back I wrote about my experiences while sitting in the waiting room of a tire store. Today is something different. It is still me. And I am still sitting in a waiting room. But this time the waiting room is at my wife’s hair salon. There is an old sci-fi novel called “A Stranger In A Strange Land”. I think this title applies to my current wait.

For most of my life, I have tried to stay as far away from the topic of my wife’s hair as I possibly could. “Women and hair” is a phrase that has escaped from my mouth more times than I could count. Now it usually comes from my wife’s mouth, following an “I know . . . ” as she rolls her eyes. This usually happens after I have failed the test of noticing how this haircut (or is it hairstyle?) differs from the last one. As a guy, I approach hair from a utilitarian aspect. It needs to be washed and combed and occasionally cut, but otherwise it is just one more on a long list of maintenance items in my world.

Of late, I have been sucked into a different world when it comes to hair. Marianne has not been driving. But even people who are not comfortable getting behind the wheel have hair that continues to grow. One thing we agree on is that I am not about to offer to cut her hair, and she is not about to allow me to cut her hair. Our point of agreement is that it would be traumatic for both of us, and therefore best avoided. Many years of marriage bring a husband and wife into agreement on things like this. So, our fallback has been for me to drive her to the hair salon and wait until the beautification process has been completed.

This process would be easier if I could hang out in the basement studio in a hair stylist’s home. Like the place where Marianne used to go. We did that a couple of times. However, that staircase down to the basement (and back up again) became a problem, so now the choice is a salon in one of those modern suburban shopping plazas (which I don’t think they call “plazas” anymore). Which must be the only shopping center in this entire upscale community without a Starbucks in which to sip on overpriced coffee while I wait.

Vintage LIFE Magazine photo of a woman contemplating entry into the Beauty Salon. I approached my wife’s salon with no less trepidation. Probably more.

So, I will be the interloper into a world in which I have no part. I understand this, but can do nothing about it. There is hair to be cut. And styled. And washed, apparently. It’s a process, I am told. It is warm outside so I have elected to come inside to wait, instead of staying out in the car as I have on more temperate days. I kind of hate that waiting room, truth be told, but here I am. I will be the guy who is obsessed with his computer.

The first problem is the chair situation. This place was clearly designed by a professional decorator. You know, the kind who makes everything look simply faaaahhhhhbulous. Which doesn’t usually translate to comfortable and inviting. There are two decent chairs. On prior visits, I have been able to snag one of them. But not today, as an unending series of ladies has been cycling in and out of them during the various stages of the mysterious doings farther back in the building. There is also small loveseat, but I feel awkward taking up a place where two people can sit, like the mother and her teenage son who were there earlier. So I get one of three undersized, uncomfortable stools against a small table that faces the wall. Except it is not deep enough for me to face the wall with my open laptop, so I sit at an angle. I wonder if I will be given the opportunity to take a survey. Probably not. Which is for the best.

There is loud music that has been playing nonstop since I got here. The songs are those you hear wherever the Wine-Moms congregate. I guess it could be worse. Really, a TV tuned to ESPN wouldn’t be any better. I am a guy who appreciates his quiet places. This is not one of them.

One of the chair women (meaning one of the ladies sitting in one of the chairs I have been covetously eying) must be a fairly high-powered one. She has not only been on her laptop, but also on her phone. There is too much noise for me to make out much of the conversation. Perhaps this is the design – and probably a good one. And who knows, she could be writing a blog post about the guy with the quite un-stylish haircut who sits in the waiting room but never goes in to see a stylist.

Ooh, on the other end of the table where I sit is a display for “MAGNESIUM BODY RUB”. A mere $24 for 4 ounces, it seems to be quite a bargain. I presume that the rub contains magnesium. Because most bodies of my acquaintance are not made of that material. It boasts of “noticeable results” and an “easy add-on”, but never says what it actually does. Like the blueberry facial a lawyer of my acquaintance got for his dog, it is probably mostly effective at separating cash from people with too much of it in relation to their common sense. Listen to me being all judgmental. But I don’t care because my backside is becoming increasingly sore on this stool.

Vintage movie poster featuring a woman in the midst of hair beautification. I like to think that this was comic exaggeration. Yes, let’s go with that.

Because Marianne is getting a basic cut, I am not here long enough to see the parade of before-and-after ladies as they come and go. Which is probably just as well, because I probably would not notice much difference. And even if I were to notice a difference, I have been conditioned by a lifetime of living with women who get their hair done to not say a word until I see which way the wind is blowing. I remember some mighty traumatic sessions with my mother in front of her bathroom mirror after she came home with a “hairdo” (as she called them) that did not make the grade. Even my daughter, early in her elementary school years, go in on that action. I have never forgotten her staring in anger at the bathroom mirror as she enunciated with enough sharpness to chisel granite – “My. Hair. Looks. STUPIT”. She meant “stupid”, but that last “d” came out with enough spitting force that only a “t” can convey it on the sterile page.

Fortunately, Marianne looks happy with the new do as she emerges from the inner regions. The good thing about being there when she walks into the waiting room is that I immediately notice her new haircut. And we are both happy – she is happy because I notice and say something nice about it. And I am happy because we get to go home.

53 thoughts on “Sitting In The Hair Salon”

  1. It’s as Tom Petty says: the way-yay-tin is the hardest part.

    My wife and I don’t agree on how we like her hair, but anytime she slings my preferences back at me, I tell her, “It’s your hair.” Fortunately, she doesn’t spend a lot of time in the salon. Unfortunately, when she does, it’s preceded by weeks of “I need to make a hair appointment” which is inevitably followed by my thinking (but never saying) “Then do it!”

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  2. I have no idea what “Magnesium Body Rub” would be intended to do, since the only home use of Magnesium I can recall came in a blue bottle, was sometimes “Chocolate Flavored” (or at least so said the TV commercials for it) and produced results that I can’t imagine that the hairdo ladies would want to solicit by rubbing it all over their bodies. Then again, I’m certainly no authority on anything in the beauty preparations universe.

    (But here’s a link to a 35 page article, with sources, all about the history of Phillips’ Milk of Magnesia and its packaging. That might clear things up. https://secure-sha.org/bottle/pdffiles/MilkOfMagnesia.pdf I would suggest a more comfortable seat than one in the beauty parlor if you’re going to give that a read.)

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    • Oooh, will I be reading something about this soon? I was wondering awhile back if Phillips M of M is still something that is sold. I remember it in the medicine cabinet when I was growing up – awful, chalky tasting stuff. Though not as awful tasting as some other remedies. I am sitting in a fairly comfy chair at the moment, and maybe I will take a look!

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  3. Those places are rough. I’ve accompanied my wife a time or two – thankfully she doesn’t go often as she keeps her hair long and will trim the unruly parts between visits.

    That said, I’ve visited such a place twice this year, although it supposedly caters to all. It’s a walk-in style place. While my daughter has been cutting my hair for years, I went in April prior to my father’s funeral and again ten days ago due to my daughter being busy. Chevelle (yes, that was her name) cut my hair so well I wore a hat for three days afterwards. She was also testy and dropped a certain four letter word. A wonderful self-presentation on her part.

    I suspect there are advantages to being bald. And, I’m also glad my wife minimizes her number of visits. Such places need a very fashionable “husband’s chair”…it’s in the same spirit as dedicated parking spaces for expectant mothers and veterans. Especially since you are a veteran of such places.

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  4. I’m female and i hate getting my hair cut. All that waiting and watching and i’m just there for a cut with not even a wash. you describe the whole orderal so well – it as if you were at the place i get mine done. Best of luck in future trips.

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    • Oooh, was that you with the laptop and the phone? Haha, I’m sure it was not if you say you are a quick in-and-out kind of customer. The lady I saw was in for the entire experience. And yes, I am resigned go going back. I think I have learned the trick – if we can schedule earlier in the day, one of the good chairs will be available!

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  6. I don’t think a standard 750ml bottle of the Rye whiskey I buy is as much as that Magnesium Body Rub!

    Of course, there are “hair-dressers” and there are “salons”, and then there are things like the “Aveda Day Spa”. Those of us with aging “marginal” hair, are sort of OK with the “Great Clips” sort of places, now up to $19.00 for retirees. Older women with short hair have zero problems going to those places as well, and it’s pretty much an “all-gender” place when I go. Lots of 70+ women with those short, razor cut, “NYC Gallery Owner” “dos”, getting a trim for $19.00.

    I will say when I lived in Washington D.C., one of my gal pals always went to a Georgetown “salon”, where a “minor trim”, was over ten times the cost of my current haircut, and literally more than my last monthly car loan, and she used to go monthly! The higher quality places, like the Aveda Day Spa, will most likely have a very nice out of the way lounging area for “waiters” and will likely give you free mineral water, and possible even free high end coffee, or energy drinks; and an unlimited supply of glossy fashion mags so you can oogle the European fashion models: no People Magazine or “Highlites” here (or Police Gazette)! I used to get a fantastic scissors cut hair cut from a young German woman that used to do some freelance styling for my advertising photography studio, but when that pushed past the $50.00 mark, and that was a while ago, I had to put the kibosh on that!

    I dated a woman once whose Dad owned a few salons, and when he retired early and sold out to a competitor, he contracted to come into the assisted living homes and retirement communities for “hair days”, and cut the oldsters on the spot at a reduced rate. All those old grannies loved him, but we always joked he was buying the “hair bluing” in 55 gallon drums!

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    • I have to believe that a nice salon in a prosperous neighborhood is a license to print money. Of course, it would depend on getting “stylists” who keep their customers coming back over the long haul. I grew up around ladies who had a running weekly hair appointment, and nobody ever tried to separate one of those ladies from her “hairdresser”. And if the hairdresser retired or moved away or whatever, it was a calamity until a new one was found who could give the look the ladies were seeking.

      I have given up on those Great Clips kinds of places – the one near me suffered terrible turnover, so I had someone different every time. Sometimes it worked out, but more often neither my wife nor me was satisfied with it. I finally gave up and started going to see the lady in the basement where my wife used to go. She does a nice job and it is not tremendously more than the cheap places.

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      • Yeah, my Great Clips type place has about the same people in it as it’s had for three or four years, so I’m basically getting the same haircut each time, usually same person. I have gotten cuts done at places with large turn-over, and you are correct that you can come out, as my Dad used to say: “…looking like a DP (displaced person).” On the other hand, my Mom used a person for years that eventually ended up doing a worse and worse job every year until my Mom had to investigate newer stylists. I guess even they can lose focus and interest.

        BTW, most small upscale salons in decent neighborhoods are owned by one of the people, and the others working there usually “rent” their chair and also have a small split off of the gross charges to the house, not including tips. They’re not actually employees but subcontractors. Usually when good people get a certain amount of clientele looking for them, they rent a space and start their own salon and start renting chairs to others. I’ve heard that owners try to enforce non-compete clauses, but they’re basically unenforceable.

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  7. I’ve been letting my hair grow out lately, because I always wanted to know what it would feel like to have longer hair. I went to a local independently-owned salon I never went to before (I always used to go to standard barber shops or places like Supercuts). I had an appointment, so no waiting. I told them to “neaten it up and shape it nice” because my hair had gotten too long and shaggy. The “stylist” first washed my hair, then sat me down in the chair, started clipping away, did a combing with blow dry and a did a few other things, added a few puffs of hair spray and WOW! I looked like a prince when I got out of there.

    Here I am, about a month later, and I think my hair still looks good! I really enjoyed having something close to the “full salon treatment”, and I plan to go back.

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    • Stephen, the big deal here for about the last ten years or so, is the “full service” high-end barber shop, including straight razor shaves and the like; with spaces styled like something from the turn of the century. Like you, I plan to save my meager sheckles to one day treat myself to the “full treatment” service, including the shave, but I think it’s going to be a once a year appointment! BTW, you look fabulous!

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      • Like you, I have always had a yen for an old-school barbershop. My problem with these modern places is that they charge ungodly amounts for that old-style full service. A shave and a haircut is absolutely not two bits anymore. 🙂

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    • At least you had an appointment so were not stuck in the waiting room! It is always nice to find a place that combines the experience and the final look that makes it all work. Some guys can pull off the long hair thing, but I have never seen myself as one of them.

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    • I remember the old Lawn Boy magnesium deck! And cars with magnesium (mag) wheels. If the stuff smells like that mixture of gas and oil that comes from the exhaust of an old Lawn Boy, I might actually buy some of it. 🙂

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      • From what I’ve learned about magnesium wheels, if they catch fire during a crash, they are almost impossible to put out. Don’t think I’d want to put something flammable like that on my body.

        The only thing I miss about having hair is going to a ‘salon’ and having the woman put her boobs in my face while washing my hair. 🙂 Since I have serious male pattern baldness I took the easy way out and now just use a clipper set to the lowest setting to give me that James Spader look. I’m all about low maintenance!

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      • I have been blessed with good genes for hair – which becomes a bit of a curse when the need for continual maintenance keeps recurring.

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  9. Hmm, the magnesium body rub I would pass on. I did like seeing the vintage photos of the hair salons. Joan Blondell looking wired for space which I’m guessing was for a perm? Back in the day, they called it a “permed wave” and I had several of them over the years when I was growing up. Mom didn’t do a “Toni” from a box, but we went to her hairdresser Peggy who had a contract with the local funeral home for making the dearly departed look their best. That freaked me out, but it beat Mom putting my hair in pin curls which pinched my head. Years later a friend of family who was a hair stylist offered to do a body perm on my long hair as a belated birthday present. She came to our house to do the perm and the result was she ruined my long hair leaving it a mess of tight frizz on one side and very straight on the other side. I cut my hair to the shortest layer to let it grow out – that was 50 years ago and the last perm I had!

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    • Oh, how I remember the smell of those Toni home permanents from my mother getting them done at home with the help of a friend. Ugh!! I knew a male attorney who regularly got a perm, and kept that look of tightly curled locks as sort of his trademark. I could never muster the kind of enthusiasm to invest that much time and effort into hair. I am a “rock what you got” kind of guy when it comes to the tonsorial arts.

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      • I don’t know why my mom never gave me a Toni – maybe she thought she might mess it up and/or it would leave the house smelling like ammonia so that it seemed to sear your nostrils for days afterward. In the early-mid 70s guys and gals all looked alike with long hair parted in the middle and feathered on the sides, but I do remember when guys got perms, probably because they had frizzy hair and this made it easier to manage.

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  10. The Car Guy and I go to one of those hair cutting places that serve both sexes. We can book our appointments on line. They have enough stylists that we can both get a cut at the same time! They have our preferred cut on file, so the result is never a disappointing surprise!

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    • I used to have my preferred cut on file too, but the problem seemed to be that no two people who worked there ever seemed to have the same interpretation. I vividly remember my last time there. The lady went way, way short (which Marianne simply hates on me, despite its attraction from a maintenance perspective). When I questioned her, she made it clear that it was my fault for not being more clear when I had described the style for their notes. Um, yes. I took my faulty instructions elsewhere.

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      • The Car Guy has them use their power clipper with a guard that can be set to a certain length, which they have on file. Then all they have to use is scissors to trim where the clipper doesn’t go. I have a blunt cut, so I just have to tell them how many inches to cut off!

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  11. That sounds scary. At least the barber shop I went as a boy had stacks of twenty year old Field and Stream and Outdoor Life magazines to look at. I know, totally different situation but that’s what came to mind.

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  12. My father tends to wait in the car while my mother gets her hair done. A book and some people watching are great time killers. If it’s a longer wait he walks around a nearby store and gets a little exercise.

    Those chairs weren’t designed for him and he’s sure of it.

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  14. I am the driver for various female members of the family on shopping trips and to hair and nail appointments, but I never set foot inside. Thank goodness for cell phones. I can exercise outside, read, walk to a coffee shop, anything else!

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  16. Ha! That was funny! Loved the photos too. When perms came back in style in the 80’s, I remember my mother telling me about those electric perm machines from the 40’s. Hair is such a complicated thing for women – it’s seldom ever perfect.

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    • PS. Speaking of perms apparently they are now in for guys. My friend paid $100 for her ten year old son to get one, which he had cut out a few months later, and last week I was in the bank I hardly recognized my (40ish) financial adviser as he had permed curly hair and a beard, whereas six months ago he had very short hair? I’m guessing (some) younger men are more into appearance than they used to be?

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      • You guys are scaring me! I lived through that mid-70’s “Guy-Perm” era and it was pretty bad! I never succumbed, but I did have girlfriends that wanted me to do it and I certainly would NOT! I hope we’re not coming back to that! Most of my fashion forward gal friends who are as old as me, are on record saying that mid-70’s era up until “New Wave”, was also the most horrible clothing in their lives as well.

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      • I personally was shocked that a guy would spend that much money on his hair? Although I know women who routinely spend $150 on a cut and color. I actually liked some of the fashions from the 70’s….but not the polyester!

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      • A quick check this morning with the 20-something baristas at my coffee place, and the response was that salons were “trying” to push a “guy-perm” (and even a girl-perm) comeback, but relatively few people were buying into it. Most of the gang were still shuddering at the remembrance of some of their parents and grandparents pretty awful 70’s era photos, and don’t want anything to do with it! I’ve dated enough women in the past with naturally tight curly hair, and all of them told me they hated their hair, and most were mystified that some women stopped them on the street and would say: “…I love your hair!” To which they would respond: “…you can have it!”

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      • Thanks for scoping out the reality Andy! It makes sense as perms (and color) make them more money than a simple cut. I had perms in the 80’s as they were easy care, but yea, women with curly hair want straight and vice versa. No woman is ever happy with her hair.

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    • “It’s seldom ever perfect” – clearly a woman’s perspective. 😛 There are things in my life on which I strive for perfection, but hair isn’t one of them. I know, spoken like a clueless guy.

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      • It is a well known fact that women are never happy with their hair even when they have lovely hair it is too short too long too thick too thin too curly too straight take your pick!

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  17. I’ve taken my daughters to get their hair cut at a real, live beauty salon. Now all of the girls (high school and college) seem to want to keep their hair long and straight. And I can’t imagine them sitting through the process for a perm!

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    • I can make allowances for taking Marianne to the salon, and thankfully my daughter now has a husband, which I believe entitles me to a rest-of-my-life exemption from being involved in her hair decisions! 😄

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