About a month ago I shaved my boyfriend?s head. I absolutely adore
what he looks like, especially since his hair was thinning so anyway. He
doesn?t really like it but is getting used to it and has to confess it
is much easier to take care of. Of course I?m the one who shaves it for
him every other day or so, which I very much enjoy doing and, although
he won?t admit it, he enjoys a great deal too.
However since joining the ranks of the short haired he is now after me to cut mine much shorter. Not bald, mind you, but short.
My own red hair used to trail far down my back in a luscious flowing mane, nearly long enough to sit on. It was amazing. Foolishly I cut it for my first husband to a short, trendy style. It actually looked quite cute flipped up in back, full of layers all over, but it never really was me and the work required to keep that flip up in back was enormous. So I grew it out again (starting after the divorce) and tried to return it to its former glory. That just hasn?t happened though, as my 40-year old hair isn?t the same as the hair of my youth. It is much more brittle and thin, and by the time it gets a few inches below my shoulders it starts breaking. Of course the fact I blow dry and use a curling iron every day on it doesn?t help, but it looks terrible unless I do.
I have to admit my hair right now, all one length a good 4 inches below my shoulders except for bangs that poke into my eyes, is in very poor shape. Full of breakage and split ends, it is far overdue for a trim. Jason (my boyfriend) wants me to get all the damage cut off so I can?t complain about it anymore, even if that means very short. In fact he wants to see what I?d look like with it quite short. He says if I?m going to get a good amount taken off anyway, why not?! Strangely he makes some sense, but I?m not so sure I want to have ?a good amount? taken off.
It wasn?t until last weekend, when I went out to a nice dinner and tried to do something special with my hair (which involved curling it much differently than usual) that I realized how bad the condition of my mane truly was. I couldn?t get the look I wanted, and I knew it was time for at least another trim, and probably a sizeable one at that. So I made an appointment with Jessica, my stylist, and started wondering if I should follow Jason?s advice or not.
I can?t believe how much I?m shaking underneath this cape as Jessica is combing through my hair. It looks even worse today, if that is possible. I decided as late as last night that I would only get a trim. I can?t bear the thought of short hair again, and all the work it involves.
?Wow Tina, your hair sure is in need of this.?
?Pretty bad, huh?!?
?I?ll say. I told you to ease back on the blow-drying and curling irons. Wet-setting would have been much kinder to your hair.?
?Even if I knew how to do that, I don?t have the time.?
?Well, you?ve got a major amount of breakage and splits. You need some serious work done here.?
?So how much will you have to trim off to restore it? Can I just get my usual long Bob.?
?I could give you the usual, but that won?t get rid of the damage. Not even close.?
My nerves were jumping again. ?So what do you recommend??
?Something different, a lot shorter. I?d suggest something that won?t need blow-drying or curling so it can grow out quickly if you wish.?
?How short??
?That?s kind of up to you. I?m going to need to take most of the length off though, as it?s damaged quite high up the shaft. I?d say at best I could keep about three inches of length all over.?
That struck me like I had just been kicked. Three inches!!! Never had my hair been remotely that short. That would barely cover my ears.
?Really?! That short?!?
?I?m afraid so. If you avoid it things will just get worse, and it will have to be even shorter as the damage spreads.?
?If I just stop blow-drying and use hot oil and such, wouldn?t that do the trick??
?A few months ago maybe. Not now.?
?Do you have any stylebooks I can look at??
?Sure.? And soon we were busy thumbing through page after page of styles far shorter than I had ever imagined wearing. Unfortunately the few I liked either wouldn?t work for my hair texture or would require a great deal of upkeep, which meant they would take forever to grow out.
?I think you need to go with a much simpler style and line. It would be easier for you and thus grow out faster. Take a look at this book.?
With that Jessica showed me a book of women basically wearing what looked like men?s haircuts. Parted on the side and drawn over, bowl cuts, and one woman was even wearing what could only be called a flattop. It wasn?t harsh like a man?s as it still had quite a bit of length and long pointy sideburns on the sides, plus some wispy length in the back, and the top was at least several inches longer than men wore. Still though, it was a flattop. The title read a ?Ladies Flattop?. I chuckled a bit.
?What?s so funny??
?Just that I?ve always adored flattops on men. It?s strange seeing one on a woman.?
?Do you like it??
The way she asked caught me off guard. ?I guess so, at least on her,? I said casually.
?Would you like one??
That woke me up! I still wasn?t sure I was going to ask for anything more that the usual trim, and here she was asking me to be practically bald.
?You?re kidding aren?t you??
?I know it?s probably shorter on the sides and back then necessary, but the top is actually not any shorter than 3 inches. It wouldn?t take much, perhaps some strong gel and hairspray, and yours could stand up quite easily. Plus it would still easily be long enough to brush back if you wish. I think it could work for you.?
This was crazy! So why was I considering it!? Was it my lifelong love of this look on men? (But I have a lifelong love of long hair on women, so that couldn?t be it). Was it the part she said about having options of brushing it in other styles? I stared at the photo more, realizing just how drastic this would be. It was still about an inch long on the sides and back, but it still meant losing the majority of my hair. My ears would be totally exposed! And if I didn?t like it, it would be about a year before it would be as long as even a sizeable trim of my current style would end up.
We thumbed through more pictures, including the basic ?Mary Lou Retton? and ?Dorothy Hamill? looks. She said both might be a little too long if I really wanted all the damage taken off. Neither one appealed to me anyways.
?I think I?ll just have a trim. It can be a bit shorter than usual.?
?All right. I?ll go a few inches above your shoulders. It won?t get all the damage off but it will take care of the worst of it. I really can?t go much shorter without changing your style.?
With that we went back and washed my hair. When we came back I studied my face as she combed my hair out. It was tight against my head, bangs drawn back off my forehead with the rest, ears uncovered. I studied my face shape. It didn?t really look bad without the bangs (which I have had for most of my life) and my ears are relatively small and don?t stick out. At times I?ve worn my hair up I never worried about revealing them. Was I still considering going short? My God! I was. In fact I was still considering that ?Ladies Flattop?.
Getting my hair trimmed, even just a little bit, has always been so difficult for me. So imagine how I felt watching a good 5 inches being lopped off. Even worse, about an inch of my bangs had to go too, meaning they didn?t even cover my eyebrows any more. I pleaded that she leave them only, but it was clear they were just as bad off, if not worse, then the rest. That inch was being kind. When Jessica blow-dried and smoothed the final look in place (sparing my hair of a curling iron by now curling under or flipping out the ends) it was still obvious that there was a lot of damaged hair remaining. The look was cute, but the short bangs annoyed me. I knew eventually I?d have to cut off the damage. Why not now?! Plus, to keep this look I?d still have to blow dry it every day. That meant more damage. It was a never ending cycle unless I opted for a change.
?Will that do it then,? asked Jessica as she handed me a mirror and showed me the back. It was odd seeing some of my neck now exposed. I ran my hands through my now significantly shorter length. It felt so? short. Even when it was in that short layered flip years ago there was more length in my bangs and on the sides than it had now, plus my neck had never been exposed like this. Could I dare ask for less?
?I don?t know. I probably should just take the plunge and get rid of all the damage.?
?I think that?s a good idea. Have you decided on what you want.?
?Yes?.well, no. Well, kind of.? Amazingly the words came out. ?Believe it or not, that?s ?Ladies Flattop? looked really good on that model. Do you think it would look that good on me??
?Oh yes, absolutely.?
?You?re not just saying that.?
?No, not at all. In fact I don?t recommend that style to many people, but in your case I think it will really work.?
I sat biting my lip trying to make the decision. I shook my head noting how bad my much shorter bangs looked now. I tried to envision a short plane of hair standing straight up on my head. I couldn?t.
?It would grow out relatively quickly, and you wouldn?t need to blow-dry or curl it. I think it would be a great choice.?
I found myself agreeing, and asked to be shown the picture once more. It really was quite striking, and not nearly as short as a cut a man would get. If only it didn?t mean losing so much hair. I ran my hand through my new shorter length once more, feeling all the dry brittle parts that were still there. ?OK, go ahead and do it before I change my mind.?
VERSION 1:
?Are your sure, because once I start there really is no turning back??
I closed my eyes and squeezed the chair tight for support. This was about as crazy a thing as I could remember doing. Would I ever have my beautiful long hair again?
?Yeah, I?m sure.?
She stepped to the counter and picked up a rather large pair of electric clippers. Fortunately she put an even longer guard on it, and showed how it would leave my hair still quite long. As I watched her position herself behind me in the mirror I knew I had only seconds to back out. Then they were switched to life and she stepped behind me, pushing my head forward so I could no longer see anything but the robe covering the front of my body..
?What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I doing?? I said to myself over and over as I could hear the machine coming closer and closer.
And then they hit home, and I could hear and feel huge amounts of hair falling down behind me. I bit my lip, anxious to see the carnage, hopeful it wouldn?t be nearly as bad as it felt, and tried to devise some story to explain all this to my friends and family.
She worked steadily and deliberately, and I felt the clippers running clear to the top. Was it too high?! I was thankful that I saw they had a guard, because it felt like I was being scalped.
Then they were turned off and my head returned to normal. I kept my eyes closed for a second before opening them to study my new reflection and saw??
?..absolutely nothing looking anything different. Since all the cutting had been in the back, my new short bob looked untouched. I breathed a sigh of relief, almost like nothing had happened.
All too quickly the clippers returned to life, and Jessica stepped to my right side. She started in the back working forward, and as the clippers started slowly inching over my ear I could see a huge amount on clippings dropping on my lap, much longer than I even realized I had remaining to lose. And just like that my ear had practically nothing touching it any longer, though since my remaining hair was probably still two inches long it tried to cover parts of it.
Jessica used a brush to keep my sideburn fairly long. It looked too long actually, but I figured she knew what she was doing. The right side of my head looked completely different now from the left, even changing the very shape of my head and face.
That difference was short-lived as she stepped to the left and quickly made it match the right. While I still had the bangs and a good amount of length left on the top, I certainly looked nothing like I used to when my hair was down below my waist, or even just an hour ago. The one good thing was this cut was certainly insuring all the damaged hair would be gone.
She mercifully shut off the clippers and instead picked up a comb and pair of scissors, then quickly drew up the top hair and lopped it off so it was only about 4 inches long. She repeated this from front to back, and then combed it through so all the sliced pieces fell to the cape or the floor. It still looked nothing like a flattop, but it certainly was shorter than I had ever had before.
?There now, the worst is over,? she said in an effort to comfort me.
?I didn?t expect to be able to keep so much hair,? I said, trying to relax myself.
?I still have to go a bit shorter, but not too much.? Though it wasn?t intended to do so, that got me worrying again. I wished I could see the picture again to compare lengths, but the book had been set far from my line of vision.
Jessica stepped to my side with her scissors and comb and worked on the long spiky sideburn, and when she was finished a minute later it looked every bit like I remembered the picture looking. The other side soon matched. Then she stepped behind me and worked on the fringe at the bottom in the back. It seemed like it was too short back there, but I had to trust her as I couldn?t see what she was doing. In a few minutes she returned her scissors to her counter. By now I was starting to get used to my new reflection but still having second thoughts.
When I saw Jessica pick up the clippers once more and remove the huge guard, only to replace it with what looked like a tiny guard, I started having third and fourth thoughts. But before I could say a word she was behind me, tilting my head down, and attacking the back. She worked quite quickly with the comb/clippers combination, and soon I was looking forward again, feeling quite bald back there but able to see nothing different in the mirror.
I took the quick reprieve to make a comment, probably more to relax myself more than anything else. ?The top doesn?t look too flat.?
?It will once I?m done with it and it?s standing up straight. I still have to clean up the sides a bit first though.?
While I expected to lose a bit more, I had hoped the sides were quite short enough. I had to admit I was interested in how she was going to get the top to stand up straight.
The clippers roared to life again, and I nervously watched as she attacked the hair around my ear. As she peeled more and more hair off, I became quite concerned that this was even shorter than the picture. By now I was so in shock from this all the reality of what had become of my hair hadn?t set in yet. Quickly the other side was made to match, and now my face looked even thinner and longer. However it did show off my eyes and cheekbones more. The bangs and top looked out of place, but I knew that was coming next. As Jessica returned to her counter I looked down on the floor, noting it was covered with my former long hair. I couldn?t help but shed a few tears.
Jessica removed the guard from the clippers, and then opened a drawer and took out a huge flat comb with very long teeth. It even had a leveler (a tube of liquid with a bubble in it) in it much like a tool a construction worker would use.
?What is that for?? I found myself asking.
?It makes sure the top is flat.?
I stood at it wide eyed as she brought it forward. ?I really didn?t think you needed to be that obsessive about it.?
?Oh it?s important all right. If a flattop isn?t perfectly flat it looks pretty bad.?
With that she slid the giant comb into my front hairs and lifted it up a bit. About and inch of length was sticking out of the top, which the clippers made quick work of once she got the whole thing level.
She repeated the process gradually working to the back. I expected the remaining length to be standing up but it didn?t, though I no longer had bangs falling across my forehead. I watched it all like a student, almost unaware that this was my hair being sliced off.
Once she had worked clear to the back she ran her comb through it all, and then repeated the process taking another ? inch off. Now the remaining length was actually standing up a bit, and by the time she finished with the pass I could see a flattop definitely taking shape.
Then she set the comb against the side of my head, running the clippers over it removing a bit of length here or there. When she had finished both sides, I could see now my hair had a definite boxy look to it.
She put down the cutting tools and removed a small white jar with a blue lid. It contained some kind of pink gel or cream.
?What?s that stuff??
?Krew Komb. Barbers swear by the stuff for flattops, and I have to admit they are right. It really makes them stand up. You can get it almost anywhere.?
With that she put the thick gooey substance into my hair, massaging it in. Since I normally put very little in my hair, except for a bit of spray on occasion when I put it up in a bun, I would normally frown at this whole procedure. But I had to admit I was intrigued. Magically the top hairs, when combed in place, stood up straight and I could see I now had a flattop. Jessica took out a different, thinner comb with long teeth and did a quick dusting of the top, taking off maybe ? inch to make sure it was absolutely flawless. While I feared it was becoming too short, I had to admit she was doing a good job. And when she showed me the picture to compare it to, I discovered I had an exact duplicate of the woman in the book.
She showed me the back, which still made me gasp a bit although it was no shorter than the picture, and then she was done. I just stared at my new look, trying to decide if I liked it, or if I even believed this had happened, as she brushed me off and removed the salon cape.
?What do you think??
?It?s?. very different.?
?You?ll get used to it. I think it looks great! Plus just a little Krew Komb and you?re ready to go.?
?I won?t have to blow dry it to get it this way??
?Not at all. In fact pretty soon it will be so used to going like this you might not even need the Krew Komb.?
It was then when I touched it for the first time. It?s one thing to see yourself with short hair for the first time, and quite another to feel it. It felt SOOOOO much shorter than it looked. In fact the crown was so short I could hardly grab it between my fingers. The reality of what I had just done had hit home.
?How long before this grows out??
?In about a month it will be too long to stand up, and then you?ll have to make a decision to keep it or grow it out.?
A month. I couldn?t imagine keeping this now after feeling how short it was. I wanted my long hair again. I wanted it now.
I patted the level top, having to admit that the feeling was not only peculiar and terrifying, but kind of cool.
I rose from the seat, almost slipping on the piles of my former hair on the floor, and after paying stepped out into the cool air in my new look. The feel of the air on my head and neck was most unusual, and I noticed many people looking at me, though not in a disapproving way. I touched the top again, and found the sensation most enjoyable.
In the car I checked my look in the rear view mirror. It didn?t look half bad. When I put my sunglasses on it even looked very cool. In fact?. I liked it. I really liked it. I ran my hand over it all again, finding delight in the feel of the thick product in my hair, and the feel of the short stubble against my hand.
I wondered, in a month, what I was going to do. Would I ever have long hair again?
VERSION 2:
?I?d really love to, but my next appointment is in a few minutes.?
I looked at my watch and saw I had been in the chair for nearly an hour. I guess I lost all track of time thumbing through the stylebooks.
?When is your next open spot??
She thumbed through her appointment book. Shaking her head as she went from day to day. ?Not until next Tuesday I?m afraid. Would 9 a.m. work for you??
?That?s quite a ways away. Nothing any sooner?? She shook her head. ?One of the other girls might be able to do it for you. Let me check.? She went off and made the rounds of the shop. She came back a few minutes later. ?Myra can do it Friday at 3:30 if you?d like.?
?Thanks, but if I have to wait until then I might as well just wait until Tuesday.? She penciled me in her appointment book. ?Look at the bright side. It gives you time to get used to this style a bit and change your mind if you wish. It is a pretty radical change.?
I paid, thanked her, and stepped out, noticing the mound of my former hair now strewn on the floor around the chair.
As I walked through the mall back towards my car I found myself checking my look in every store window and mirror. It was kind of nice, but what I really noticed was how much more truly needed to be cut off to restore my hair to full health. I was anxious to go through with this now. I didn?t know how I could wait until Tuesday. I stood staring at my reflection in a shop window for what seemed an eternity.
?Miss, may I help you??
I snapped out of a trance and found myself talking to an older gentleman with a white smock on. His nametag said Al and he look to be in his late 50?s or 60?s.
?I?m sorry, did you say something??
?I just asked you if I could help you. You?ve been standing in front of my shop for 5 minutes now. I thought you were just watching my last client but since he left several minutes ago I figured you might need assistance.?
It was then that I noticed Al?s shop was the Mall Barber Shop. It was a small one chair shop that was one of the oldest and smallest places in the shopping center. For the time being there were no clients and the big chair sat empty.
?No, I don?t think you could help me.?
?I do cut and style ladies hair too,? he said, pointing to a sign painted on the glass saying as much. In fact a good portion of my business is with women.
I smiled trying to be polite. ?I don?t suppose you know how to cut a ?Ladies Flattop? do you?!? It wasn?t a serious question, just conversation to get myself out of a potentially embarrassing position.
?Sure I do. I?ve done quite a few actually.?
I was dumbfounded. ?Really? A LADIES flattop? Not on a guy, but a ladies version??
He nodded his head. ?Have a few regular clients who come in each month and get them redone.?
Why I still was standing there I have no idea, but I was, and still talking to the man too. ?I doubt you and I are thinking of the same style.?
?Then why don?t you describe it to me.?
?Well, it is extremely flat on the top of course, but much more squared off then the men get, plus the top and sides are quite long, and there is a section of spikey sideburn that hangs down pretty long on the sides, plus some longer fringe at the neckline.?
?Right, a Ladies Flattop. You haven?t described anything new.?
I stood mouth agape, amazed that this man actually new about such a cutting edge style. ?And the top is longer, like a lot longer than most men. Like, long enough to brush in different styles if I like.?
?I suppose that would be right, though I don?t know many who ever do wear it different. Usually you get a flattop because you want it to look that way.?
?But it could be worn differently, right??
?I suppose so.?
?And you say you?ve done a lot of these??
He nodded.
?On women??
He smiled and nodded again. ?Did one just yesterday. I take it that?s what you?re looking to get.?
I kind of looked down and gave him a confirming nod.
?Well if you want to have a seat I could take care of you right now.?
I just stared in the shop, with it?s bare white walls and counter full of clippers and combs. The chair was huge and imposing. Yet for some reason I was considering it. Why? This was a Barber Shop. It was a place men and boys go to get really short haircuts. It was certainly not a place for women, at least not for me.
Suddenly I was bumped from behind by a group of teenagers on the run, and there I was, standing in the shop. Seeing me in the shop, Al went over to his chair and removed the cape, and quickly brushed off the chair of any stray hairs. Then he smiled at me a very genuine smile and motioned for me to sit down. And for some reason I did.
Before I knew I was facing out the front of the shop staring out into the mall, feeling the robe being cinched a bit too tight around my neck. All the while I was trying to get out of this predicament. I felt him casually run a comb through my ?do.
?So will that be it then. A Ladies Flattop??
I was almost speechless. But it was a cut I wanted. I didn?t want to wait a week, and this man said he could do it as I wanted. Plus it was far cheaper than Jessica charged.
?Why not?!? I said aloud. I then gasped a bit as I realized that I had just given this barber permission to begin.
I bit my lip as he spritzed down my now shorter ?Bob?, easily running the comb through its length. The bangs he combed straight back off my forehead. ?Tell me again how you?re going to cut it,? I said pleadingly.
He chuckled a bit at my nervousness. ?Well, the top will be very flat of course, but still quite long, and I?ll leave some length at the hairline in the back and at the temple for sideburns. The sides and back will have to be quite short compared to what they are now, but not like a cut I would give to a man.?
Everything he said is like the picture demonstrated. I ran out of reasons to say no, so I told him that would be fine. ?Just not too short!?
?It will be fine,? he said. ?For the record, I will be using clippers, but they will have a guard on them insuring that I don?t cut off too much. So what you hear and feel isn?t really as bad as what is happening.?
It was nice of him to warn me about the clippers, but I didn?t understand the part about hearing and feeling. I could simply watch what was happening in the?.. It was then I realized that there was no mirror for me to look into. I was about to entrust my precious hair to a complete stranger, a Barber no less, and I wouldn?t even be able to watch! I suddenly found my hands tightly gripping the armrests of the chair.
I think the insanity of the whole situation was keeping me in that chair. I mean here I was in a man?s Barber Shop asking for the same (or at least a ladies variation of) the same haircut I had longed for all my past boyfriends to have, and the one my first husband did wear. Yet for me all I ever really wanted was longer hair, not shorter. But as I heard the clippers come to life it was obvious my time with even this short ?Bob? was soon coming to an end.
He stepped to my right side and I got a quick peek at the clippers. They had a huge black plastic guard on them far bigger than I expected to see, so I breathed a quick sigh of relief. Still, as I heard the clippers come to life I realized all my energies were focused into keeping perfectly still. Then the machine was brought to my temple and placed against my skin, and it started in to my hair. It?s tone quickly changed as it started removing huge sections of my former glory. I watched a steady stream of clippings, some nearly 6 inches in length, fall to the robe in front of me. He was working fast, quickly working up around my ear, removing anything covering it, and then starting down the back. It was all happening so quickly I couldn?t believe it wasn?t a rush job. Once behind me he started in at the lower hairline, pushing it up about halfway up the back of my head. This too was all done quite quickly. Then he was at my left side, starting in at the temple and quickly outlining that ear too. I could tell I was biting my lip now, so worried about what I was doing here. It took him maybe 60 seconds and all the hair the once fell against my neck and over my ears was gone. I could still feel quite a fair amount remaining, but compared to how it had felt this morning it just seemed unbelievably short. He went over both temples again, plus the lower hairline in the back once more before turning off the machine. Once more I got to see the huge guard and felt comfortable I had at least as much as I had hoped for remaining if not more.
Al stepped in front of me and ran a comb through the sides quickly, and then used some scissors to shape them, hopefully into the pointed shape I had requested. He stood in front of me a few feet and checked to see they both matched. Satisfied, he stepped behind me and returned to his counter. I heard him fiddling with his clipper again. I didn?t know if he was ready to start on the top or what.
He was quickly back at my right side, popping the clipper to life as he ran his comb once more over the temple. Then the clipper was placed against my hair once more. I could feel a bit of warmth from the machine this time, alarming me that the long guard was perhaps no longer attached. It certainly felt closer to my scalp.
Avoiding the sideburn, he worked on the area of the side above it, including tight around the ear once more, and then headed back. On the rear of my head I could hear large amount of my tresses being chewed through. He avoided the lower hairline, but what concerned me was how high up he was going. It was nearly clear to the top. Then the left ear got the same treatment as the right. My hair didn?t feel all that much lighter or shorter, but the masses of clippings raining down the front of my lap told me otherwise. But they weren?t any more than about a ? inch long, so I remained calm. One thing was for sure though, I was dying to see what was happening. Yet all I could see was the faces of a group of teenagers in the mall gathered outside the shop checking me out. They were giggling and chatting with smiles on their faces. It didn?t comfort me at all.
Thankfully the clipper was turned off, and I breathed a long sigh of relief as I looked around a bit, seeing if there was anyplace I could see my reflection. No such luck.
Al stood behind me and brought a comb to the front of my forehead and drew my bangs straight up. Then he quickly grabbed them with his fingers, just as any stylist wood, and snipped across them with a pair of scissors. About one inch of clippings fell down my face. Nothing too bad. He repeated this motion again a little further back on my head, and then again and again until he had traveled to the rear of the crown. He quickly ran his comb through it so all the sliced off sections could fall to the ground. I wondered if it was that easy to give me the flat ?top? of the cut, especially as I heard his scissors return to the counter. Was I already done? It didn?t feel like a flattop.
Suddenly he was spritzing down my hair again on top, combing it all through the length. This was followed by an ample amount of gel being massaged into the top. The last time I?d used any gel was long ago when I had that short layered flip style. But I could tell the amount now being rubbed into my hair was significantly more than I used to use. Then I heard him go to his sink and wash off his hands. I figured the unveiling was going to be quite soon. It sure didn?t feel anything like I expected, with the exception of feeling my ears exposed to the air.
?Are you almost done??
He chuckled. ?Getting there,? he replied. Then, quite unexpectedly, a blow-dryer came to life and I felt him aggressively brushing the top hair every which way as he dried it with the intense stream of hot air.
?Is that really necessary??
?What? The blow dryer??
?Yes.?
?If you want your hair standing straight up it is.?
?My ex had a flattop and he never needed a blowdryer.?
?I?m sure his wasn?t this long,? he replied, and I couldn?t deny the fact he was right on that account. After another ambitious 30 seconds the machine was silenced. Now my hair felt very different indeed. ?Don?t you own a blowdryer?? he asked as he returned the device to the counter.
?Oh sure. It?s just that the whole reason I need to cut my hair in the first place is all the damage I?ve done to it with those things. I was rather hoping not to need one after today.?
He returned yet again to his counter, and after picking up some things he stood behind me, took my head firmly I his hands, and made sure I was facing straight ahead with perfect posture. ?Now hold real still,? he said, and then I heard his clippers come to life one more time. I figured he was putting the final touches in now, and just hoped it wouldn?t involve taking too much more off.
The comb was inserted in the front again, and quickly the clippers passed over it. Some ever so short clippings rained over my face. Once more he worked his way back. I really wished I could watch this part as it still didn?t feel like a ?flattop?, though by now I decided the length I was ending up with shouldn?t feel that short anyway.
Al combed through the top again, and then came forward and made another front to back pass with his comb and clipper combination. Then he started working on the sides, slowly blending that in to the top. I could feel the comb placed vertically against the side of my head before the clippers made their run. It was a most peculiar feeling, but probably necessary to make the very squared off, feminine look of the finished style. The only part that concerned me was on the upper back of my head near the crown. It felt like the comb was laying directly against my skin as the clipper ran over it. That had to be wrong as that would certainly make things much too short.
He ran his comb through the top again, making sure it was being combed straight up. Then he walked in front of me and gave it another hard look. All the while I was almost afraid to move, and hoping this agony would be soon done. I had always taken for granted the mirror in the beauty parlor, and getting to watch getting my hair done. Not getting to watch was torture.
Unfortunately Al made another pass over the top, and this one seemed quite ambitious. I couldn?t believe I still had enough hair up there to look like the picture Jessica had shown me. In fact I could swear now I felt the comb touching down on my scalp. The clippers must have a guard on them, because any other thought meant I now had hair as short as any man. Now it definitely felt like the top of my head was being transformed to a ?flat? surface, and somehow despite all my nerves a bit of a grin slipped out.
That quickly disappeared though as he continued to go over the top, and then blended in the sides yet again. This time it even felt like the sides were being taken down shorter still. How short? Then he turned off the clipper and brushed me off. Once that was done, he combed through my top hair once more, and made yet another run with the clippers, this time without any comb. Fortunately I didn?t feel the clippers against my scalp, though I could swear they weren?t far from my scalp.
After brushing me off yet again, Al put a fairly thick layer of hairspray down over my style. Whatever he used had a very masculine scent to it. But then this was a Barber Shop after all.
Slowly the chair was turned to face the mirror. When I finally saw myself I didn?t know whether to get upset or to cry. For staring back at me was nothing near the image I expected to see.
Yes, I did have a flattop. It was every bit as flat, and extremely squared off, perhaps as humanly possible. What length remained stood up perfectly straight, and the mixture of the gel and spray made it look almost spiked. It was absolutely as perfect a level top as I?d ever seen done.
But the top was substantially, SUBSTANTIALLY, shorter than it was supposed to be. In fact, it seemed no longer than my ex used to wear. It didn?t even look to be an inch long. It was supposed to be 3 or 4 inches long! When I looked down I could nearly see scalp coming through towards my crown. Thankfully it wasn?t a landing strip, but it certainly was close.
The sides did have the longish, pointed hair at the temple. Yet all the other hair on the sides was just long enough so skin didn?t blaringly show through. It was still just stubble, and not the good inch or so that should have been there. It was supposed to be long enough to brush and style a bit, yet what I had left was only a fraction of an inch. My ears were outlined harshly, revealing a hairline that was too high for my liking. It almost looked like ?whitewalls.? What?s more the transition made the longish sideburns almost laughable as they looked so out of place.
The back did have the lower fringe of hair, which also looked out of place compared to the short length that was all that remained of the rest of my hair. In truth, I was sporting a man?s flattop with some ridiculous strips of hair remaining.
?Oh God it?s too short!!!?
?Well I started out with it much longer but then you said you didn?t want to use a blowdryer. This is truly the longest I could leave it right now to be flat without requiring styling each morning. Since I had to take the top down, the sides had to be shorter too or it wouldn?t look right.?
I realized I had said I didn?t want to use a blowdryer, but didn?t think I had cleared him to do this. I looked horrible. My hair used to be my crowning glory. Now it was basically all gone, and the effect shrunk my head down to this little speck. I no longer looked feminine at all, and the little fringe was awful.
?Will that be all then?? he asked.
I sadly shook my head. ?No. I hate this fringe. Take it off.?
?Back and the sides??
?Yes.?
?So you just want me to taper that then??
The way he asked didn?t let me realize I could have blocked the finished look, and I just nodded agreement.
?Back and sides?? he asked.
?Sure,? I said, resigned to my awful new look.
I wiped some tears from my eyes as the chair turned once more. The clipper roared to life and made short work of the hair at the back of my neck. But why, when it was just on the very lowest part, was he spending so much time go over the back still, continuing on up the back nearly toward the top? I was just about to say something when he moved to the side. He made quick work of the sideburn, and then strangely seemed to continue up higher, including constantly going up and over my ear yet again. The left ear quickly got equal treatment. After being brushed off again, the chair was turned once more.
The good news was the awful looking sideburns were gone. The bad new was they were not only gone, there was not even a trace of stubble where the sideburn had once been. In fact now the hair on the side looked even shorter as the ?whitewalls? looked to have been extended even higher. The back looked even worse, as the lower half of my head was basically stripped clean of hair. Only the faintest amount of tiny length peeked through my pale white skin. It looked shorter than my ex used to wear!
Al could see my concerned look and heard me gasp when I saw the back.
?That?s a traditional barber shop taper,? he said in his own defense.
All I knew was I felt bald, and looked awful. I touched my new cut. Normally the feel of a fresh flattop turned me on, and this one was as crisp and level and firm as any I had ever felt. But this was on me, not a man, and totally revolted me.
I paid the barber and left fighting back tears. I felt as if everyone was staring at me laughing. Once in my car I put my head on my lap, touched the remnants of my hair, and cried for at least an hour.
When I finally regained my composure, I drove home to the disbelieving eyes of Jason, and over the next few days tried to keep my chin up through the gawking and stares of friends and co-workers.
My flattop immediately returned to shape each day, regardless of how much product I put in it trying to get it to lay down or do anything else. In that sense this barber did an excellent job. But all I knew was, in the months it took to grow out, that I would never again find any joy in a flattop. Not even on a man. In fact I immediately encouraged Jason to grow his hair back out, and when it was long enough to get a flattop stressed that I didn?t want to see him get it cut like that, ever.
However since joining the ranks of the short haired he is now after me to cut mine much shorter. Not bald, mind you, but short.
My own red hair used to trail far down my back in a luscious flowing mane, nearly long enough to sit on. It was amazing. Foolishly I cut it for my first husband to a short, trendy style. It actually looked quite cute flipped up in back, full of layers all over, but it never really was me and the work required to keep that flip up in back was enormous. So I grew it out again (starting after the divorce) and tried to return it to its former glory. That just hasn?t happened though, as my 40-year old hair isn?t the same as the hair of my youth. It is much more brittle and thin, and by the time it gets a few inches below my shoulders it starts breaking. Of course the fact I blow dry and use a curling iron every day on it doesn?t help, but it looks terrible unless I do.
I have to admit my hair right now, all one length a good 4 inches below my shoulders except for bangs that poke into my eyes, is in very poor shape. Full of breakage and split ends, it is far overdue for a trim. Jason (my boyfriend) wants me to get all the damage cut off so I can?t complain about it anymore, even if that means very short. In fact he wants to see what I?d look like with it quite short. He says if I?m going to get a good amount taken off anyway, why not?! Strangely he makes some sense, but I?m not so sure I want to have ?a good amount? taken off.
It wasn?t until last weekend, when I went out to a nice dinner and tried to do something special with my hair (which involved curling it much differently than usual) that I realized how bad the condition of my mane truly was. I couldn?t get the look I wanted, and I knew it was time for at least another trim, and probably a sizeable one at that. So I made an appointment with Jessica, my stylist, and started wondering if I should follow Jason?s advice or not.
I can?t believe how much I?m shaking underneath this cape as Jessica is combing through my hair. It looks even worse today, if that is possible. I decided as late as last night that I would only get a trim. I can?t bear the thought of short hair again, and all the work it involves.
?Wow Tina, your hair sure is in need of this.?
?Pretty bad, huh?!?
?I?ll say. I told you to ease back on the blow-drying and curling irons. Wet-setting would have been much kinder to your hair.?
?Even if I knew how to do that, I don?t have the time.?
?Well, you?ve got a major amount of breakage and splits. You need some serious work done here.?
?So how much will you have to trim off to restore it? Can I just get my usual long Bob.?
?I could give you the usual, but that won?t get rid of the damage. Not even close.?
My nerves were jumping again. ?So what do you recommend??
?Something different, a lot shorter. I?d suggest something that won?t need blow-drying or curling so it can grow out quickly if you wish.?
?How short??
?That?s kind of up to you. I?m going to need to take most of the length off though, as it?s damaged quite high up the shaft. I?d say at best I could keep about three inches of length all over.?
That struck me like I had just been kicked. Three inches!!! Never had my hair been remotely that short. That would barely cover my ears.
?Really?! That short?!?
?I?m afraid so. If you avoid it things will just get worse, and it will have to be even shorter as the damage spreads.?
?If I just stop blow-drying and use hot oil and such, wouldn?t that do the trick??
?A few months ago maybe. Not now.?
?Do you have any stylebooks I can look at??
?Sure.? And soon we were busy thumbing through page after page of styles far shorter than I had ever imagined wearing. Unfortunately the few I liked either wouldn?t work for my hair texture or would require a great deal of upkeep, which meant they would take forever to grow out.
?I think you need to go with a much simpler style and line. It would be easier for you and thus grow out faster. Take a look at this book.?
With that Jessica showed me a book of women basically wearing what looked like men?s haircuts. Parted on the side and drawn over, bowl cuts, and one woman was even wearing what could only be called a flattop. It wasn?t harsh like a man?s as it still had quite a bit of length and long pointy sideburns on the sides, plus some wispy length in the back, and the top was at least several inches longer than men wore. Still though, it was a flattop. The title read a ?Ladies Flattop?. I chuckled a bit.
?What?s so funny??
?Just that I?ve always adored flattops on men. It?s strange seeing one on a woman.?
?Do you like it??
The way she asked caught me off guard. ?I guess so, at least on her,? I said casually.
?Would you like one??
That woke me up! I still wasn?t sure I was going to ask for anything more that the usual trim, and here she was asking me to be practically bald.
?You?re kidding aren?t you??
?I know it?s probably shorter on the sides and back then necessary, but the top is actually not any shorter than 3 inches. It wouldn?t take much, perhaps some strong gel and hairspray, and yours could stand up quite easily. Plus it would still easily be long enough to brush back if you wish. I think it could work for you.?
This was crazy! So why was I considering it!? Was it my lifelong love of this look on men? (But I have a lifelong love of long hair on women, so that couldn?t be it). Was it the part she said about having options of brushing it in other styles? I stared at the photo more, realizing just how drastic this would be. It was still about an inch long on the sides and back, but it still meant losing the majority of my hair. My ears would be totally exposed! And if I didn?t like it, it would be about a year before it would be as long as even a sizeable trim of my current style would end up.
We thumbed through more pictures, including the basic ?Mary Lou Retton? and ?Dorothy Hamill? looks. She said both might be a little too long if I really wanted all the damage taken off. Neither one appealed to me anyways.
?I think I?ll just have a trim. It can be a bit shorter than usual.?
?All right. I?ll go a few inches above your shoulders. It won?t get all the damage off but it will take care of the worst of it. I really can?t go much shorter without changing your style.?
With that we went back and washed my hair. When we came back I studied my face as she combed my hair out. It was tight against my head, bangs drawn back off my forehead with the rest, ears uncovered. I studied my face shape. It didn?t really look bad without the bangs (which I have had for most of my life) and my ears are relatively small and don?t stick out. At times I?ve worn my hair up I never worried about revealing them. Was I still considering going short? My God! I was. In fact I was still considering that ?Ladies Flattop?.
Getting my hair trimmed, even just a little bit, has always been so difficult for me. So imagine how I felt watching a good 5 inches being lopped off. Even worse, about an inch of my bangs had to go too, meaning they didn?t even cover my eyebrows any more. I pleaded that she leave them only, but it was clear they were just as bad off, if not worse, then the rest. That inch was being kind. When Jessica blow-dried and smoothed the final look in place (sparing my hair of a curling iron by now curling under or flipping out the ends) it was still obvious that there was a lot of damaged hair remaining. The look was cute, but the short bangs annoyed me. I knew eventually I?d have to cut off the damage. Why not now?! Plus, to keep this look I?d still have to blow dry it every day. That meant more damage. It was a never ending cycle unless I opted for a change.
?Will that do it then,? asked Jessica as she handed me a mirror and showed me the back. It was odd seeing some of my neck now exposed. I ran my hands through my now significantly shorter length. It felt so? short. Even when it was in that short layered flip years ago there was more length in my bangs and on the sides than it had now, plus my neck had never been exposed like this. Could I dare ask for less?
?I don?t know. I probably should just take the plunge and get rid of all the damage.?
?I think that?s a good idea. Have you decided on what you want.?
?Yes?.well, no. Well, kind of.? Amazingly the words came out. ?Believe it or not, that?s ?Ladies Flattop? looked really good on that model. Do you think it would look that good on me??
?Oh yes, absolutely.?
?You?re not just saying that.?
?No, not at all. In fact I don?t recommend that style to many people, but in your case I think it will really work.?
I sat biting my lip trying to make the decision. I shook my head noting how bad my much shorter bangs looked now. I tried to envision a short plane of hair standing straight up on my head. I couldn?t.
?It would grow out relatively quickly, and you wouldn?t need to blow-dry or curl it. I think it would be a great choice.?
I found myself agreeing, and asked to be shown the picture once more. It really was quite striking, and not nearly as short as a cut a man would get. If only it didn?t mean losing so much hair. I ran my hand through my new shorter length once more, feeling all the dry brittle parts that were still there. ?OK, go ahead and do it before I change my mind.?
VERSION 1:
?Are your sure, because once I start there really is no turning back??
I closed my eyes and squeezed the chair tight for support. This was about as crazy a thing as I could remember doing. Would I ever have my beautiful long hair again?
?Yeah, I?m sure.?
She stepped to the counter and picked up a rather large pair of electric clippers. Fortunately she put an even longer guard on it, and showed how it would leave my hair still quite long. As I watched her position herself behind me in the mirror I knew I had only seconds to back out. Then they were switched to life and she stepped behind me, pushing my head forward so I could no longer see anything but the robe covering the front of my body..
?What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I doing?? I said to myself over and over as I could hear the machine coming closer and closer.
And then they hit home, and I could hear and feel huge amounts of hair falling down behind me. I bit my lip, anxious to see the carnage, hopeful it wouldn?t be nearly as bad as it felt, and tried to devise some story to explain all this to my friends and family.
She worked steadily and deliberately, and I felt the clippers running clear to the top. Was it too high?! I was thankful that I saw they had a guard, because it felt like I was being scalped.
Then they were turned off and my head returned to normal. I kept my eyes closed for a second before opening them to study my new reflection and saw??
?..absolutely nothing looking anything different. Since all the cutting had been in the back, my new short bob looked untouched. I breathed a sigh of relief, almost like nothing had happened.
All too quickly the clippers returned to life, and Jessica stepped to my right side. She started in the back working forward, and as the clippers started slowly inching over my ear I could see a huge amount on clippings dropping on my lap, much longer than I even realized I had remaining to lose. And just like that my ear had practically nothing touching it any longer, though since my remaining hair was probably still two inches long it tried to cover parts of it.
Jessica used a brush to keep my sideburn fairly long. It looked too long actually, but I figured she knew what she was doing. The right side of my head looked completely different now from the left, even changing the very shape of my head and face.
That difference was short-lived as she stepped to the left and quickly made it match the right. While I still had the bangs and a good amount of length left on the top, I certainly looked nothing like I used to when my hair was down below my waist, or even just an hour ago. The one good thing was this cut was certainly insuring all the damaged hair would be gone.
She mercifully shut off the clippers and instead picked up a comb and pair of scissors, then quickly drew up the top hair and lopped it off so it was only about 4 inches long. She repeated this from front to back, and then combed it through so all the sliced pieces fell to the cape or the floor. It still looked nothing like a flattop, but it certainly was shorter than I had ever had before.
?There now, the worst is over,? she said in an effort to comfort me.
?I didn?t expect to be able to keep so much hair,? I said, trying to relax myself.
?I still have to go a bit shorter, but not too much.? Though it wasn?t intended to do so, that got me worrying again. I wished I could see the picture again to compare lengths, but the book had been set far from my line of vision.
Jessica stepped to my side with her scissors and comb and worked on the long spiky sideburn, and when she was finished a minute later it looked every bit like I remembered the picture looking. The other side soon matched. Then she stepped behind me and worked on the fringe at the bottom in the back. It seemed like it was too short back there, but I had to trust her as I couldn?t see what she was doing. In a few minutes she returned her scissors to her counter. By now I was starting to get used to my new reflection but still having second thoughts.
When I saw Jessica pick up the clippers once more and remove the huge guard, only to replace it with what looked like a tiny guard, I started having third and fourth thoughts. But before I could say a word she was behind me, tilting my head down, and attacking the back. She worked quite quickly with the comb/clippers combination, and soon I was looking forward again, feeling quite bald back there but able to see nothing different in the mirror.
I took the quick reprieve to make a comment, probably more to relax myself more than anything else. ?The top doesn?t look too flat.?
?It will once I?m done with it and it?s standing up straight. I still have to clean up the sides a bit first though.?
While I expected to lose a bit more, I had hoped the sides were quite short enough. I had to admit I was interested in how she was going to get the top to stand up straight.
The clippers roared to life again, and I nervously watched as she attacked the hair around my ear. As she peeled more and more hair off, I became quite concerned that this was even shorter than the picture. By now I was so in shock from this all the reality of what had become of my hair hadn?t set in yet. Quickly the other side was made to match, and now my face looked even thinner and longer. However it did show off my eyes and cheekbones more. The bangs and top looked out of place, but I knew that was coming next. As Jessica returned to her counter I looked down on the floor, noting it was covered with my former long hair. I couldn?t help but shed a few tears.
Jessica removed the guard from the clippers, and then opened a drawer and took out a huge flat comb with very long teeth. It even had a leveler (a tube of liquid with a bubble in it) in it much like a tool a construction worker would use.
?What is that for?? I found myself asking.
?It makes sure the top is flat.?
I stood at it wide eyed as she brought it forward. ?I really didn?t think you needed to be that obsessive about it.?
?Oh it?s important all right. If a flattop isn?t perfectly flat it looks pretty bad.?
With that she slid the giant comb into my front hairs and lifted it up a bit. About and inch of length was sticking out of the top, which the clippers made quick work of once she got the whole thing level.
She repeated the process gradually working to the back. I expected the remaining length to be standing up but it didn?t, though I no longer had bangs falling across my forehead. I watched it all like a student, almost unaware that this was my hair being sliced off.
Once she had worked clear to the back she ran her comb through it all, and then repeated the process taking another ? inch off. Now the remaining length was actually standing up a bit, and by the time she finished with the pass I could see a flattop definitely taking shape.
Then she set the comb against the side of my head, running the clippers over it removing a bit of length here or there. When she had finished both sides, I could see now my hair had a definite boxy look to it.
She put down the cutting tools and removed a small white jar with a blue lid. It contained some kind of pink gel or cream.
?What?s that stuff??
?Krew Komb. Barbers swear by the stuff for flattops, and I have to admit they are right. It really makes them stand up. You can get it almost anywhere.?
With that she put the thick gooey substance into my hair, massaging it in. Since I normally put very little in my hair, except for a bit of spray on occasion when I put it up in a bun, I would normally frown at this whole procedure. But I had to admit I was intrigued. Magically the top hairs, when combed in place, stood up straight and I could see I now had a flattop. Jessica took out a different, thinner comb with long teeth and did a quick dusting of the top, taking off maybe ? inch to make sure it was absolutely flawless. While I feared it was becoming too short, I had to admit she was doing a good job. And when she showed me the picture to compare it to, I discovered I had an exact duplicate of the woman in the book.
She showed me the back, which still made me gasp a bit although it was no shorter than the picture, and then she was done. I just stared at my new look, trying to decide if I liked it, or if I even believed this had happened, as she brushed me off and removed the salon cape.
?What do you think??
?It?s?. very different.?
?You?ll get used to it. I think it looks great! Plus just a little Krew Komb and you?re ready to go.?
?I won?t have to blow dry it to get it this way??
?Not at all. In fact pretty soon it will be so used to going like this you might not even need the Krew Komb.?
It was then when I touched it for the first time. It?s one thing to see yourself with short hair for the first time, and quite another to feel it. It felt SOOOOO much shorter than it looked. In fact the crown was so short I could hardly grab it between my fingers. The reality of what I had just done had hit home.
?How long before this grows out??
?In about a month it will be too long to stand up, and then you?ll have to make a decision to keep it or grow it out.?
A month. I couldn?t imagine keeping this now after feeling how short it was. I wanted my long hair again. I wanted it now.
I patted the level top, having to admit that the feeling was not only peculiar and terrifying, but kind of cool.
I rose from the seat, almost slipping on the piles of my former hair on the floor, and after paying stepped out into the cool air in my new look. The feel of the air on my head and neck was most unusual, and I noticed many people looking at me, though not in a disapproving way. I touched the top again, and found the sensation most enjoyable.
In the car I checked my look in the rear view mirror. It didn?t look half bad. When I put my sunglasses on it even looked very cool. In fact?. I liked it. I really liked it. I ran my hand over it all again, finding delight in the feel of the thick product in my hair, and the feel of the short stubble against my hand.
I wondered, in a month, what I was going to do. Would I ever have long hair again?
VERSION 2:
?I?d really love to, but my next appointment is in a few minutes.?
I looked at my watch and saw I had been in the chair for nearly an hour. I guess I lost all track of time thumbing through the stylebooks.
?When is your next open spot??
She thumbed through her appointment book. Shaking her head as she went from day to day. ?Not until next Tuesday I?m afraid. Would 9 a.m. work for you??
?That?s quite a ways away. Nothing any sooner?? She shook her head. ?One of the other girls might be able to do it for you. Let me check.? She went off and made the rounds of the shop. She came back a few minutes later. ?Myra can do it Friday at 3:30 if you?d like.?
?Thanks, but if I have to wait until then I might as well just wait until Tuesday.? She penciled me in her appointment book. ?Look at the bright side. It gives you time to get used to this style a bit and change your mind if you wish. It is a pretty radical change.?
I paid, thanked her, and stepped out, noticing the mound of my former hair now strewn on the floor around the chair.
As I walked through the mall back towards my car I found myself checking my look in every store window and mirror. It was kind of nice, but what I really noticed was how much more truly needed to be cut off to restore my hair to full health. I was anxious to go through with this now. I didn?t know how I could wait until Tuesday. I stood staring at my reflection in a shop window for what seemed an eternity.
?Miss, may I help you??
I snapped out of a trance and found myself talking to an older gentleman with a white smock on. His nametag said Al and he look to be in his late 50?s or 60?s.
?I?m sorry, did you say something??
?I just asked you if I could help you. You?ve been standing in front of my shop for 5 minutes now. I thought you were just watching my last client but since he left several minutes ago I figured you might need assistance.?
It was then that I noticed Al?s shop was the Mall Barber Shop. It was a small one chair shop that was one of the oldest and smallest places in the shopping center. For the time being there were no clients and the big chair sat empty.
?No, I don?t think you could help me.?
?I do cut and style ladies hair too,? he said, pointing to a sign painted on the glass saying as much. In fact a good portion of my business is with women.
I smiled trying to be polite. ?I don?t suppose you know how to cut a ?Ladies Flattop? do you?!? It wasn?t a serious question, just conversation to get myself out of a potentially embarrassing position.
?Sure I do. I?ve done quite a few actually.?
I was dumbfounded. ?Really? A LADIES flattop? Not on a guy, but a ladies version??
He nodded his head. ?Have a few regular clients who come in each month and get them redone.?
Why I still was standing there I have no idea, but I was, and still talking to the man too. ?I doubt you and I are thinking of the same style.?
?Then why don?t you describe it to me.?
?Well, it is extremely flat on the top of course, but much more squared off then the men get, plus the top and sides are quite long, and there is a section of spikey sideburn that hangs down pretty long on the sides, plus some longer fringe at the neckline.?
?Right, a Ladies Flattop. You haven?t described anything new.?
I stood mouth agape, amazed that this man actually new about such a cutting edge style. ?And the top is longer, like a lot longer than most men. Like, long enough to brush in different styles if I like.?
?I suppose that would be right, though I don?t know many who ever do wear it different. Usually you get a flattop because you want it to look that way.?
?But it could be worn differently, right??
?I suppose so.?
?And you say you?ve done a lot of these??
He nodded.
?On women??
He smiled and nodded again. ?Did one just yesterday. I take it that?s what you?re looking to get.?
I kind of looked down and gave him a confirming nod.
?Well if you want to have a seat I could take care of you right now.?
I just stared in the shop, with it?s bare white walls and counter full of clippers and combs. The chair was huge and imposing. Yet for some reason I was considering it. Why? This was a Barber Shop. It was a place men and boys go to get really short haircuts. It was certainly not a place for women, at least not for me.
Suddenly I was bumped from behind by a group of teenagers on the run, and there I was, standing in the shop. Seeing me in the shop, Al went over to his chair and removed the cape, and quickly brushed off the chair of any stray hairs. Then he smiled at me a very genuine smile and motioned for me to sit down. And for some reason I did.
Before I knew I was facing out the front of the shop staring out into the mall, feeling the robe being cinched a bit too tight around my neck. All the while I was trying to get out of this predicament. I felt him casually run a comb through my ?do.
?So will that be it then. A Ladies Flattop??
I was almost speechless. But it was a cut I wanted. I didn?t want to wait a week, and this man said he could do it as I wanted. Plus it was far cheaper than Jessica charged.
?Why not?!? I said aloud. I then gasped a bit as I realized that I had just given this barber permission to begin.
I bit my lip as he spritzed down my now shorter ?Bob?, easily running the comb through its length. The bangs he combed straight back off my forehead. ?Tell me again how you?re going to cut it,? I said pleadingly.
He chuckled a bit at my nervousness. ?Well, the top will be very flat of course, but still quite long, and I?ll leave some length at the hairline in the back and at the temple for sideburns. The sides and back will have to be quite short compared to what they are now, but not like a cut I would give to a man.?
Everything he said is like the picture demonstrated. I ran out of reasons to say no, so I told him that would be fine. ?Just not too short!?
?It will be fine,? he said. ?For the record, I will be using clippers, but they will have a guard on them insuring that I don?t cut off too much. So what you hear and feel isn?t really as bad as what is happening.?
It was nice of him to warn me about the clippers, but I didn?t understand the part about hearing and feeling. I could simply watch what was happening in the?.. It was then I realized that there was no mirror for me to look into. I was about to entrust my precious hair to a complete stranger, a Barber no less, and I wouldn?t even be able to watch! I suddenly found my hands tightly gripping the armrests of the chair.
I think the insanity of the whole situation was keeping me in that chair. I mean here I was in a man?s Barber Shop asking for the same (or at least a ladies variation of) the same haircut I had longed for all my past boyfriends to have, and the one my first husband did wear. Yet for me all I ever really wanted was longer hair, not shorter. But as I heard the clippers come to life it was obvious my time with even this short ?Bob? was soon coming to an end.
He stepped to my right side and I got a quick peek at the clippers. They had a huge black plastic guard on them far bigger than I expected to see, so I breathed a quick sigh of relief. Still, as I heard the clippers come to life I realized all my energies were focused into keeping perfectly still. Then the machine was brought to my temple and placed against my skin, and it started in to my hair. It?s tone quickly changed as it started removing huge sections of my former glory. I watched a steady stream of clippings, some nearly 6 inches in length, fall to the robe in front of me. He was working fast, quickly working up around my ear, removing anything covering it, and then starting down the back. It was all happening so quickly I couldn?t believe it wasn?t a rush job. Once behind me he started in at the lower hairline, pushing it up about halfway up the back of my head. This too was all done quite quickly. Then he was at my left side, starting in at the temple and quickly outlining that ear too. I could tell I was biting my lip now, so worried about what I was doing here. It took him maybe 60 seconds and all the hair the once fell against my neck and over my ears was gone. I could still feel quite a fair amount remaining, but compared to how it had felt this morning it just seemed unbelievably short. He went over both temples again, plus the lower hairline in the back once more before turning off the machine. Once more I got to see the huge guard and felt comfortable I had at least as much as I had hoped for remaining if not more.
Al stepped in front of me and ran a comb through the sides quickly, and then used some scissors to shape them, hopefully into the pointed shape I had requested. He stood in front of me a few feet and checked to see they both matched. Satisfied, he stepped behind me and returned to his counter. I heard him fiddling with his clipper again. I didn?t know if he was ready to start on the top or what.
He was quickly back at my right side, popping the clipper to life as he ran his comb once more over the temple. Then the clipper was placed against my hair once more. I could feel a bit of warmth from the machine this time, alarming me that the long guard was perhaps no longer attached. It certainly felt closer to my scalp.
Avoiding the sideburn, he worked on the area of the side above it, including tight around the ear once more, and then headed back. On the rear of my head I could hear large amount of my tresses being chewed through. He avoided the lower hairline, but what concerned me was how high up he was going. It was nearly clear to the top. Then the left ear got the same treatment as the right. My hair didn?t feel all that much lighter or shorter, but the masses of clippings raining down the front of my lap told me otherwise. But they weren?t any more than about a ? inch long, so I remained calm. One thing was for sure though, I was dying to see what was happening. Yet all I could see was the faces of a group of teenagers in the mall gathered outside the shop checking me out. They were giggling and chatting with smiles on their faces. It didn?t comfort me at all.
Thankfully the clipper was turned off, and I breathed a long sigh of relief as I looked around a bit, seeing if there was anyplace I could see my reflection. No such luck.
Al stood behind me and brought a comb to the front of my forehead and drew my bangs straight up. Then he quickly grabbed them with his fingers, just as any stylist wood, and snipped across them with a pair of scissors. About one inch of clippings fell down my face. Nothing too bad. He repeated this motion again a little further back on my head, and then again and again until he had traveled to the rear of the crown. He quickly ran his comb through it so all the sliced off sections could fall to the ground. I wondered if it was that easy to give me the flat ?top? of the cut, especially as I heard his scissors return to the counter. Was I already done? It didn?t feel like a flattop.
Suddenly he was spritzing down my hair again on top, combing it all through the length. This was followed by an ample amount of gel being massaged into the top. The last time I?d used any gel was long ago when I had that short layered flip style. But I could tell the amount now being rubbed into my hair was significantly more than I used to use. Then I heard him go to his sink and wash off his hands. I figured the unveiling was going to be quite soon. It sure didn?t feel anything like I expected, with the exception of feeling my ears exposed to the air.
?Are you almost done??
He chuckled. ?Getting there,? he replied. Then, quite unexpectedly, a blow-dryer came to life and I felt him aggressively brushing the top hair every which way as he dried it with the intense stream of hot air.
?Is that really necessary??
?What? The blow dryer??
?Yes.?
?If you want your hair standing straight up it is.?
?My ex had a flattop and he never needed a blowdryer.?
?I?m sure his wasn?t this long,? he replied, and I couldn?t deny the fact he was right on that account. After another ambitious 30 seconds the machine was silenced. Now my hair felt very different indeed. ?Don?t you own a blowdryer?? he asked as he returned the device to the counter.
?Oh sure. It?s just that the whole reason I need to cut my hair in the first place is all the damage I?ve done to it with those things. I was rather hoping not to need one after today.?
He returned yet again to his counter, and after picking up some things he stood behind me, took my head firmly I his hands, and made sure I was facing straight ahead with perfect posture. ?Now hold real still,? he said, and then I heard his clippers come to life one more time. I figured he was putting the final touches in now, and just hoped it wouldn?t involve taking too much more off.
The comb was inserted in the front again, and quickly the clippers passed over it. Some ever so short clippings rained over my face. Once more he worked his way back. I really wished I could watch this part as it still didn?t feel like a ?flattop?, though by now I decided the length I was ending up with shouldn?t feel that short anyway.
Al combed through the top again, and then came forward and made another front to back pass with his comb and clipper combination. Then he started working on the sides, slowly blending that in to the top. I could feel the comb placed vertically against the side of my head before the clippers made their run. It was a most peculiar feeling, but probably necessary to make the very squared off, feminine look of the finished style. The only part that concerned me was on the upper back of my head near the crown. It felt like the comb was laying directly against my skin as the clipper ran over it. That had to be wrong as that would certainly make things much too short.
He ran his comb through the top again, making sure it was being combed straight up. Then he walked in front of me and gave it another hard look. All the while I was almost afraid to move, and hoping this agony would be soon done. I had always taken for granted the mirror in the beauty parlor, and getting to watch getting my hair done. Not getting to watch was torture.
Unfortunately Al made another pass over the top, and this one seemed quite ambitious. I couldn?t believe I still had enough hair up there to look like the picture Jessica had shown me. In fact I could swear now I felt the comb touching down on my scalp. The clippers must have a guard on them, because any other thought meant I now had hair as short as any man. Now it definitely felt like the top of my head was being transformed to a ?flat? surface, and somehow despite all my nerves a bit of a grin slipped out.
That quickly disappeared though as he continued to go over the top, and then blended in the sides yet again. This time it even felt like the sides were being taken down shorter still. How short? Then he turned off the clipper and brushed me off. Once that was done, he combed through my top hair once more, and made yet another run with the clippers, this time without any comb. Fortunately I didn?t feel the clippers against my scalp, though I could swear they weren?t far from my scalp.
After brushing me off yet again, Al put a fairly thick layer of hairspray down over my style. Whatever he used had a very masculine scent to it. But then this was a Barber Shop after all.
Slowly the chair was turned to face the mirror. When I finally saw myself I didn?t know whether to get upset or to cry. For staring back at me was nothing near the image I expected to see.
Yes, I did have a flattop. It was every bit as flat, and extremely squared off, perhaps as humanly possible. What length remained stood up perfectly straight, and the mixture of the gel and spray made it look almost spiked. It was absolutely as perfect a level top as I?d ever seen done.
But the top was substantially, SUBSTANTIALLY, shorter than it was supposed to be. In fact, it seemed no longer than my ex used to wear. It didn?t even look to be an inch long. It was supposed to be 3 or 4 inches long! When I looked down I could nearly see scalp coming through towards my crown. Thankfully it wasn?t a landing strip, but it certainly was close.
The sides did have the longish, pointed hair at the temple. Yet all the other hair on the sides was just long enough so skin didn?t blaringly show through. It was still just stubble, and not the good inch or so that should have been there. It was supposed to be long enough to brush and style a bit, yet what I had left was only a fraction of an inch. My ears were outlined harshly, revealing a hairline that was too high for my liking. It almost looked like ?whitewalls.? What?s more the transition made the longish sideburns almost laughable as they looked so out of place.
The back did have the lower fringe of hair, which also looked out of place compared to the short length that was all that remained of the rest of my hair. In truth, I was sporting a man?s flattop with some ridiculous strips of hair remaining.
?Oh God it?s too short!!!?
?Well I started out with it much longer but then you said you didn?t want to use a blowdryer. This is truly the longest I could leave it right now to be flat without requiring styling each morning. Since I had to take the top down, the sides had to be shorter too or it wouldn?t look right.?
I realized I had said I didn?t want to use a blowdryer, but didn?t think I had cleared him to do this. I looked horrible. My hair used to be my crowning glory. Now it was basically all gone, and the effect shrunk my head down to this little speck. I no longer looked feminine at all, and the little fringe was awful.
?Will that be all then?? he asked.
I sadly shook my head. ?No. I hate this fringe. Take it off.?
?Back and the sides??
?Yes.?
?So you just want me to taper that then??
The way he asked didn?t let me realize I could have blocked the finished look, and I just nodded agreement.
?Back and sides?? he asked.
?Sure,? I said, resigned to my awful new look.
I wiped some tears from my eyes as the chair turned once more. The clipper roared to life and made short work of the hair at the back of my neck. But why, when it was just on the very lowest part, was he spending so much time go over the back still, continuing on up the back nearly toward the top? I was just about to say something when he moved to the side. He made quick work of the sideburn, and then strangely seemed to continue up higher, including constantly going up and over my ear yet again. The left ear quickly got equal treatment. After being brushed off again, the chair was turned once more.
The good news was the awful looking sideburns were gone. The bad new was they were not only gone, there was not even a trace of stubble where the sideburn had once been. In fact now the hair on the side looked even shorter as the ?whitewalls? looked to have been extended even higher. The back looked even worse, as the lower half of my head was basically stripped clean of hair. Only the faintest amount of tiny length peeked through my pale white skin. It looked shorter than my ex used to wear!
Al could see my concerned look and heard me gasp when I saw the back.
?That?s a traditional barber shop taper,? he said in his own defense.
All I knew was I felt bald, and looked awful. I touched my new cut. Normally the feel of a fresh flattop turned me on, and this one was as crisp and level and firm as any I had ever felt. But this was on me, not a man, and totally revolted me.
I paid the barber and left fighting back tears. I felt as if everyone was staring at me laughing. Once in my car I put my head on my lap, touched the remnants of my hair, and cried for at least an hour.
When I finally regained my composure, I drove home to the disbelieving eyes of Jason, and over the next few days tried to keep my chin up through the gawking and stares of friends and co-workers.
My flattop immediately returned to shape each day, regardless of how much product I put in it trying to get it to lay down or do anything else. In that sense this barber did an excellent job. But all I knew was, in the months it took to grow out, that I would never again find any joy in a flattop. Not even on a man. In fact I immediately encouraged Jason to grow his hair back out, and when it was long enough to get a flattop stressed that I didn?t want to see him get it cut like that, ever.
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