July 18, 2007

Hare-ities

Filed under: menial things, a fair dinkum, Posted at: 8:21 pm

Perhaps we must all one day experience suffering for the sake of art.

The first few thoughts on my mind, as I was walking home in the chilly winter evening, fresh-faced from yoga class, was of how light and airy and bouncy it felt. I don’t know - it could be like shopping; the idea of spending a certain amount of cash for a product, or in this case, a service, could somehow snowball into an immense weight of satisfaction. Of vanity.

Some people copped a few stares along the way - either because I looked like a freak or was shamelessly acting like one. Oh, if I could explain to you the euphoria, the intense joys of what a worthwhile haircut would feel like, it would be an essay worthy of a mention. But skill is not on my side.

Or maybe the skill points had tipped over to my stylist’s (oh, I love how that word slips off my tongue, as opposed to the common term ‘hairdresser’). He is after all a style director; mother of all stylists. The top dog; the big papaya.

Before I sound like an outright pompous piece of arse shit, it must be noted that since forever, my haircuts have usually bordered around RM60 (yes, we’re talking Malaysian moolah). Long have I grown up waking to those sunlit memories of walking down obscure corridors, off the beaten path they would say, to search for that elusively cheap-o hairdresser. My image had been in the hands of countless Mak Nyahs and nyonyas. Mom thinks that a haircut is just a haircut, and that all haircuts need only the holy trio of eyesight, fingers and (sharp) scissors to flourish into art.

So when I told my stylist that I trusted him, I effing meant it. Italian in flavour, trained for 20 years in all the major capitals of Europe, he was such a genius when he did my hair. That intense stare he gave as he fingered through my pathetically mundane locks just spelt: Innovation, Change, Style.

Plus, the salon had a $20-off discount, which made it really within my range.

*hee*

Oh, piss off. Stop staring at me with those steely judgemental eyes of yours. It’s going to be the last time that I make use of such brilliance. Well, until I start earning my own dosh that is.

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