Monday, July 27, 2009

An Open Letter to the Stylists of Uptown

Dear Stylists,

Is it really that difficult to cut my hair? I would think my hair and my desired hairstyle offer few challenges to a competent hairstylist, but apparently I am mistaken. For some reason, our nations' cosmetology schools have ceased to produce graduates who can effectively deliver the short, no-frills, by-the-book male haircut that has served our country so well for decades, if not centuries. None of the Uptown salons I've patronized has produced a stylist able to cut my hair in a manner consistent with my expectations.

Not one, with the notable exception of Great Clips, that national chain of supposed cookie-cutter, dime-a-dozen, cut-by-numbers stylists. Only in that bargain-basement (but still well-appointed) hair salon have I found anyone with the surprisingly rare gift for cutting my hair to my specifications. Victoria was the first Great Clips angel to descend from the heavens (a la Frankie Avalon in Grease) and bestow on me the hairstyle I have often imagined but only fleetingly worn. Sadly, the Powers That Be at Great Clips do not allow us to schedule haircuts with our preferred stylists. Thus have I been denied the safe harbor of Victoria and left to drift into the nearest random port whenever the shaggy hair-storm blows me back out to the Sea of Salons.

The last 2 times I've landed in the capable hands of Mary Jane. She's a looker, let me tell ya. Her skin is a sultry bronze color, her hair dark and nicely framing her face, her figure trim with curves in just the right spots. Also, she has a ring through her septum, but it doesn't make her look like a cow or some other barnyard animal as it does for many others with the same piercing. Under one eye is a tattoo of three black dots in a crescent formation. I don't know what it means, but it's pretty hot.

She gave me a fine haircut and provided some good banter. I'd like to think she's into TV On The Radio, vintage greasy-spoon diners and Critical Mass, but her style could also belong to a Lady GaGa-loving, vegan Republican. (Of course, only one of those would be a deal-breaker.) You always hope for the best with the pretty ones, no matter how much evidence piles up in the "con" column.

There's always a sexual subtext when a woman cuts my hair. That's why it's always nice when the woman is cute (except when it's really awkward). The female stylists must be aware of this. A haircut involves persistent, albeit slight, physical contact, often of a sensitive nature. A thigh will press against my hand as it lies innocently on the armrest, a flat stomach will brush past my shoulder, and my head may even be pulled back to nestle just under the cleavage between two breasts. It can be quite a treat for a man as under-sexed as I.

In conclusion, Mary Jane is a great stylist, as much for her BUST-Magazine-covergirl looks and friendly demeanor as her styling ability. If only every hairstylist in Uptown possessed her combination of pulchritude, congeniality and talent. Then this would truly be a Heaven on Earth.


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