Sunday 10 July 2016

London Tales

I started cutting & styling hair about fifteen years ago. I am a professional hair stylist. I began to read your stories/articles just recently and soon realised that most of the perspectives were from the chair and not from the salon floor.
I own a small salon just outside London, which is very popular with young and daring, the passer through and the some word-of-mouth clients. I began cutting hair at a barber's shop in Alexandra Palace, London, in the early eighties. Back then we did a lot of New Romantic cuts, short back and sides until, one day a long-haired, blonde, mid-twenties young woman sat at my chair and asked for a French crop. I had cut women's hair once or twice before but it was uncommon. I cropped this young woman's hair and it was then that I realised this was what I wanted to specialise in. A few months later I took a job in Soho, London, at a very small hairstylist - the place is still there and is now run by a mother and daughter. It was there I realised what cutting a woman's hair, and what one could do with inspiration.
I would like to share some of my experiences with you, which I hope you will allow me and I hope you will enjoy. I will also look to tell you about some garish past styles and contemporary styles - I have forgotten a lot of my clients' names and the ones I do remember I will change for obvious reasons. I will give each story a day or a year in order to give you some perspective of time, year etc. Although, this does not necessarily mean that I entertained any of these clients at that one given time.
Let's begin with last Saturday morning. We open at eight-thirty and I knew from the night before we were going to have a busy day from looking at the appointment book. My salon is a fairly wide glass-fronted unit in the High Street. It is on two levels: as you walk in we have the reception area with seating; further down, six chairs with wall to floor mirrors; up three steps, the basins; to the rear, kitchen-rest and small office area. The salon area is decorated terracotta with a wash and various black and white glazed photos three by two - hair models - some of which were styled by us. I have five staff: three stylists and two juniors - we are looking to take on another stylist. The first client entered the salon and announced that she had an appointment with Sarah, one of our stylists. This particular client had booked a consultation - which means hair colour, style, make-up, the works. This can take, at times, more than two hours.
My client was booked for twenty to nine and I watched as someone else entered the shop and asked if they could make an appointment. Jenine - one of our juniors - ran her finger down the book and told the young woman when the next appointment was available. The woman, who had what appeared to be an overgrown one-length crop, smiled and booked, she left looking at her watch. I went to the back and thumbed through a supplies catalogue. The custom in our salon is to have the client garbed and seated at the chair for the stylist to greet them. Jenine entered the small office area and said that my client was ready. I told Jenine I would be out in a minute or so.
I walked to the chair to my client. She had brown short length hair, overgrown for that style, and windswept as most clients do before a haircut. She was mid- to late twenties, average size and pretty. I greeted her as I grabbed my comb. "What would you like done?" I asked.
When a client is about to ask for a short style they usually start by mentioning the back or the sides. She began - running her fingers through the sides of her hair - "Really short at the sides, quite high, shaved at the back, fairly short at the top, textured..."
I asked when she had last had her hair cut and I ran my comb up her nape - her hair was well over an inch and a half. She said two something months since her last cut. The length on top was quite long and her sideburns were almost at jaw level. This was going to be a straightforward crop or inch crop - top scissored to finger length, cropped nape and sides. I asked if she was going to wear her hair gelled forward, up and spiky, parted? How did she want the fringe? She was going to gel her hair and leave it natural; the fringe she said she wanted cropped. I said, "Lovely, no problem," and showed her to the basin where Sam - our second junior - took care of her and offered tea or coffee.
We have two types of hair clippers in the salon which the stylists use: the Wahl for general cutting and a small Philips for finer work and shaving. I use both - but I also use a recent addition, a Remington cordless: lightweight, which comes with six attachments. For this style I would use the latter unit with a grade 2 & 3. I attached the grade 2 and sorted two pairs of my scissors for intended use.
The young woman returned and sat at the chair. I took out the hairdryer and briskly blow-dried the back of her hair and sides. I could see that she had glanced at the clippers so I casually said, "I am going to clipper the back and sides, is that all right?"
"Yes, no problem," she replied.
I covered her shoulders with a rubber neck cape and began to comb her hair forward at the top and down at the back and sides. I reached for the small clipper unit and switched it on. I gently tilted her head forward and from the base of the nape began to guide the unit steadily upwards. As I finished the stroke I would flick the clippers in an outward motion to avoid leaving a definite line. As I continued clipping the young woman's nape I could see that she had a perfect hairline - so I decided to leave a natural nape and the only thing I would do would be to just go round with the smaller unit and take away the fluff at the base of her nape. I had taken the nape right up, finishing about two inches level from the crown. I had stopped just (if you imagine a line from behind the ear and up) behind the ears on both sides. It was then that I decided not to clipper the sides with a grade 3 but instead I opted to crop the sides - scissor over comb. The reason for this was that I wanted to achieve a slightly more natural, graduated look. Also with a style like this by having the sides slightly longer in length - this tends to give emphasis to the back. I was also going to crop the sides without touching the sideburns - I would come back to this a little later.
Working on the right side of the young woman's hair I started to lift these inch or so lengths and cutting the hair close to my comb I began to work rhythmically. I asked her where she was from, where she worked - she answered that she lived two tube stops away and that she worked at the end of the High Street selling computers. I worked my way up and back towards the ear until the crop faded into the previously shaved nape. The sideburn dangled in a clump still touching her jawline - I could see her looking. I moved to her left side and began with the process again. I now worked on the top, her hair still damp. I lifted a portion with my comb and clamped the hair between my forefinger and middle finger. I cut the hair as close to my fingers as my scissors would allow. I worked from one side of the front to the crown and then I worked on the other side. This girl already had a new appearance. With the top cut almost one length all over I worked around the top, sides and back blending the longer lengths of the top to the short lower lengths. I had left her fringe pretty much alone, so I asked her again how she would like it.
"Sort of really short."
I took another look and said, "You know what I think would really suit you?" (I began to demonstrate with my comb) "Longer, say on this side, at an angle and cropping it into this side, asymmetrical." She squeezed a little smile and agreed. I lifted the fringe and began to snip at her hair with my scissors at a right angle toward her head. I left the longer length (left side) feathered just over an inch as she would undoubtedly brush it upwards, and scissor-over-comb softly cropped the right side of the fringe just short of the hairline. I then went over the top lifting the hair with my comb and chipping small indents through the top - giving the hair extra texture.
I now asked her what we were going to do with the sides and she explained that she did not like long sideburns or long wisps. I pointed to one of the black-and-white pictures that we have of a model with a short style. The model's sideburns had been "flicked", which means that the sides are cut to whatever length but the base of the sideburn is just taken off with a brisk flicking motion, cropping the hairline - a grade 1 attachment is usually used on the clippers. She said she really liked that. I took my scissors and comb, cut the sideburn and blended what hadn't been cut to the rest of the side. I snipped the hair around her ear and did likewise through the left side. I removed the grade two attachment comb from the Remington and attached a wafer-like comb - a grade 1. The sideburns (the same length as the sides) protruded only millimetres from the hairline. I switched the unit on, tilted the young woman's head to the left, placed the oscillating blades against her cheekbone and with the snap of my wrist flicked the hairline. I moved to the other side and did the same. Whilst I had the Remington out I removed the small attachment and in short downward strokes cleaned the fluff. I was quite pleased with the cut and asked if my client too was pleased. She tilted her head from side to side, I showed her the back with small mirror and she said, "Great, thanks."
I applied some gel on my fingertips and worked it into her hair. I dried the hair with the dryer, pushing her hair with my fingers in several directions - to give the style some movement.
She had a very pleased look about her as she left the salon.
LONDON HAIR

Young Jenine was already showing my next client to the chair as I finished filling in the client's payment chitty. I turned and walked towards my chair. By now the salon was buzzing as the volume had been turned up from one of the CDs which were playing. All my stylists were busy in their work. I stood behind my new client and made eye contact via the large mirror.
She was very attractive, at a guess I would have said late thirties, maybe early forties. Slim, big brown eyes. Her hair was a dark brown, mid-length bob, which at some point had been cut into the back and had been tucked on one side behind her ear. The usual pleasantries aside, I asked what she was looking to have done. She spoke with a slight accent (which turned out to be Dutch). She explained that she was about to take on a new posting in America and not only was she looking for a style that would suit her and bring her up to date - she really wanted a new image although, she was a "bob" person - her words.
A Challenge!
I picked up my comb and brushed the hair off her face. She had great quality hair, very strong and healthy considering it had been some time since she had had it cut. She also had great features and beautiful, small, well-shaped ears. When I asked how she wore her hair she tucked both lengths behind her ears with her fingers and suggested that maybe she should have the sides - sideburns, she demonstrated with her fingers, cut into Vs and the sides short. She marked out a line with both hands from her nape to her ears to show me the length that the back should maybe take. She then continued by saying and demonstrating with one hand as she ran it up her neck, "Yes, with the back cut short."
I asked if style or length would be a problem in her line of work, to which she replied, "No, not particularly - I'm in media." I combed some more waiting for inspiration - then it came.
I started combing a long length of hair from the side of her head and combed it in front of her ear. "This is just a suggestion," I said, whilst gripping the length of hair between my fore and middle fingers and holding the hair down at cheek length. "If we keep these lengths forward of your ears, cut to this length, cheek length, I think we should show your ears off, so I think with the back cut short, we'll cut it short over the ears. This way you've got the bob just forward of your ears, although the length of the bob will be short. If you still want the lengths can be tucked behind the ears - I suppose the sideburns could be V'd but we don't want to overdo it."
"It sounds marvellous," she replied.
I had just recently cut a similar style at one of our modelling nights and I thought that particular style was very sexy and attractive. Although, the model that had sported the style had probably been a few years younger. However, our model had been given a severe version - a blunt stepped back carrying round and over the ears. A severe shaved nape with a grade 1 fade. The bobbed sides barely long in length to maintain any integrity behind the model's ears. In addition a blunt straight at the hairline fringe, well... she liked it.
I led my attractive client to the basin and went to make myself a drink.
Upon my return, she was already seated back at the chair - her hair moist. I reached for my comb and scissors and I began to comb her hair completely back although I left a large section of hair either side in front of the ears. I asked where she was originally from and she told me. Her name was Marjon, single and very much looking forward to returning to the U.S. where she had already spent a lot of time. She was glad to being going back as London reminded her too much of Holland. We talked about New York and where she would be living and working. I told her a female friend of mine has a salon in Manhattan and I often visit.
I could see she was relaxed as my comb ran through the last strands of her hair. I lifted one long section of hair with my comb and gently squeezed the damp strands as I delivered the first decisive slice. As I had brushed all her hair away from the front - to the back and behind the ears - the next strokes would be the basis for the style. I took another section and with a slight hacking motion cut the hair in line with the last length. I could sense that Marjon was completely at ease, no eye movement to check the mirror in order to catch the lengths of fallen hair. I gently tilted her head a little more as I undertook the third and fourth strokes. I worked my way round from the back of her hair to the ear section of hair, which I cut. I completed the other side and stepped back to check that the basic line was level. Looking at her hair from the back I had cut a step/bowl from the front of one ear, around the high of the nape to the front of the other ear. As I stepped closer to the chair I looked at her through the mirror, she smiled and I asked if she was OK. Looking at her from the front she still had a limp-looking bob. I now worked on one side, slicing an almost horizontal stroke close to her cheek. I had cut the hair from just beneath the cheekbone, until reaching her earlobe. I did the same on the other side and checked that they were both level. She began to motion her head from side to side, looking into the mirror.
"Still OK?" I asked.
"I'm impressed," she said softly.
Tilting her head forward I began to crop the nape scissors over comb. This was more for effect leaving the finished cut softer though; the length would be as short had I used the clippers. I cut the hair as close as possible at the base, keeping the scissor blades tight to the comb. I worked my way up her nape, running and keeping the comb pressed against her skin. The finished result was a super-short nape, which continued behind and to the top of each ear. I snipped the hair around the ears and stopped at the bob. I gathered small sections of hair from the back which now met the cropped nape and sliced them in a downward motion with the scissors in order to blend and fade the blunt line. The harsh line disappeared - a natural look from cropped to long could be seen from the back. I broke the fringe up by feathering the cut and I then opened the scissors and ran both blades down her still-damp hair. The blades acting like a razor took random strands as I ran them down the length of her hair. I worked on getting the volume down over her crown by razoring the hair with the scissors.
I was satisfied with the cut and I asked Marjon how the style felt. She shook her head as if she had got out of the shower, she tucked one side behind her ear, turned her head to see.
"You made me look younger."
"I think it really suits you."
I worked some mousse into her hair by brushing it through and blow-drying her hair straight. This lady looked fantastic. As she walked out to leave she turned, kissed me on the cheek and said, "I hope to see you soon, thank you."
As I watched her leave the salon I saw that Jenine was leading the overgrown cropped hair girl to my chair.

As I'm sure many of you will remember, way back in the early eighties geometric haircuts were the in thing for many. With the advent of new romantic bands such as the Human League and many others - the brave, the bold and the daring went in search of haircuts like the Wedge, the Step and ubiquitous Geo' cut.
Many of these styles evolved as stylists developed their skills and elaborated with their creativity, techniques were turned from boring long 70's cuts, perms, long limp bobs to the styles that we know today in the nineties. In fact, the sharp well crafted and structured cuts, crops, bobs that we see today and although around for many years - were really created in the early to mid-eighties. On my journey into work back in those days when I had to ride the tube (underground) to get to Soho, London I would see women with these futuristic styles that one had only seen on TV. Although, where I worked we liked to think we were creative and innovative it rarely hit us to try out these styles on unsuspecting clients. I would notice as I still do today and any stylist does I think, a well cut style and a badly cut style - in the same way that one spots a style which does not suit that person. And what was obvious in many of the styles of that time was how badly cut they were. The place where I worked back then was a very small shop in Soho next to an Italian Coffee shop. It had previously been a barber's shop for how long I don't know. Changed ownership several times until finally it was acquired by then boss. Three of us worked there two guys and a woman. The woman, a coloured girl from up north was really the catalyst in our change of image. Up until then our clientele would be the business type who would come in during their lunch breaks for a trim, both male and female - the punks (m & f) on Saturdays who would come in for their crops - occasionally some woman would come in with short hair to have it cropped shorter (always scissor over comb) although, the top, back & sides would be cropped they always insisted on leaving the "fringes" - side-burns, fringe and tail hair longer. Sonya, the coloured stylist had heard that the stylist two roads down had a sign saying "models required - apply within" nothing unusual but they were cutting some really neat styles and word was getting around - so much so that she'd heard this from the coffee shop next door. Bruce (the boss) also from up north (Liverpool) was curious and sent his then girl friend there to see what it was about. He'd known for something like a month - she went to this stylist shop to inquire about the modelling - she came back and said that they wanted models in order to try out styles, take pictures if the styles were good enough and have the pictures printed in various hair magazines. What a good idea we all thought. Bruce's girl friend went there one evening with her blonde loose permed collar length hair and returned that night to Bruce's flat with - a shaved nape all the way up to the crown, her hair parted in the middle cut to chin length with the sides rising just beneath her ears. Her hair had been dyed ginger - the poor girl never made it to the magazines. So, here we had a few hairdressers who were establishing the way forward. Bruce thought the whole thing was a good idea and soon after we too displayed the model apply within sign. We started with one night a week - late till nine/ten. My first model was a rather plump looking lass from the East End who worked in one of the theatres not far from the shop. It was our first night cutting hair for free and we'd briefly talked about what we were aiming to achieve. Quite simply, we would try to cut some "cool" styles as it was put and we'd have back whoever we thought looked "cool" and have photos taken. We knew several photographers (quite well known ones) so photo-shoots would not be a worry. The shop still had these Dickensian barber's chairs with the foot pump and the lass sat down. The response had been rather good where the sign had been concerned, the first appointments had been penned down for six that evening and we were hoping that we would get at least four models each. Her hair was dark and straight, just touching the jaw line, the back was longer than the sides. I remember asking her when she had last had it cut - she said something or other - I think she was nervous - I asked her if she had done any modelling before - she said no but, her friend had previously cut her hair. I took the hair off her face and noticed that she actually had cheekbones and small ears. Still not quite knowing what I was going to do I asked her how she felt about having her hair cut short. She paused for a while, swallowed dryly and said "yeah I fink I'd like it short". I thought about the recent styles that I had seen but I still couldn't envisage a style for this young woman. I put a cape around her and began to dry cut her hair into a bob, starting at cheek length and working my way around. As I finished this slightly uneven cut I lifted one side of her hair with my comb and wondered how the style would look with one side completely shaved. I'd seen this sort of style before - and more severe and garish styles. I said to her - you know I asked how you felt about having your hair cut short - she muttered a yeah - well, I'd like to cut this side really short - I brushed my fingers up through her hair, motioning the way the style would take - while I had been cutting her hair into a bob she had told me where she worked, so assumed that hair style would not be a problem. She didn't appear to need any convincing and agreed to continue with her hair cut. I think because there two other people also having their hair cut in weird and wonderful ways she decided to go along. I rummaged through my drawer of tools and picked up a No: 3 attachment, which I fixed to the clippers. I tilted her head to one side, her eyes fixed to the clippers - lifting her hair with the comb I began to run the clippers from her side burn up, past the temple although, not over the skull but in an upward motion. Leaving a high and tight effect. I asked how she felt and she it was nice. A No: 3 leaves a slightly fluffy shaved effect - a grade which is seldom used nowadays on short styles unless you're cropping the top of the head. After shaving the one side I began to run the clippers through the back of her head. I got a few raised eyebrows from Bruce - but Sonya had pretty much the same idea and was cutting someone's hair almost as short. With the side and back shaved I club cut (clipper and comb) the longer top layers to blend the hair in. I cleaned up the lines around the nape and the ear - V'd the side burn. The finished look was very pleasing - her left side sported a chin length bob, which run above the ear lobe and stopped just after the ear. The top layers met a slight graduation, which faded into her clipped hair. The fringe I also slopped short on the cropped side and left longer towards the bob. We asked her to come back - and she did - a couple of weeks later on the first floor on Oxford Street - Bruce took along a couple of stylist friends he knew along with six models that had been selected for the shoot. A later few weeks we sat around "Hair" magazine - My first lass had had her hair high-lighted through the top - the long side had remained the same length as I'd cut it - the other side had been cropped even shorter with a slight wedge, Bruce had previously told me he had also cut the back shorter - but the back shot didn't get to the magazine - one of the stylists had pierced the ear with the short side three times. The young lass visited the salon a few more times - that first modelling night I cut a further three styles, all pretty much evolutions from the first style. Each one got shorter and better. The last model of hat night - I had cut a bob at the back, just touching the hairline and clipper cut the side burns, which ran up to the temples and just over the ears. Pleased with the result and about to de-cloak the model - she said I thought it was going to be much shorter than that - I asked how short she had expected her hair to be cut and she said - like Annie Lennox - she left the shop with a grade 3 crop.

The late eighties, early nineties saw the rebirth of the crop. Women sported carefully-crafted, faded napes and sides, cultivated tops whether their hair had been completely cropped, whether they wore longer tops, cropped napes, wispy sides...
Steps, stepped backs, structured crops, cropped bobs, flattops, French crops - they were all in around that time. It was the era of the yuppie and the whole country was buzzing and London was thriving. Convent Garden at that time had more hair salons within two square miles than most county regions put together. We were lucky, we were slap bang in the middle of it all - Soho, London.
Bruce had decided to open another shop in North London and spent most of his time there. We had taken on another member to replace Bruce; a skinny Italian girl named Rosa. After a few weeks of working at the shop she began to build herself a handsome portfolio of male clients - she could really cut hair. Rosa had little preference in cutting men or women's hair, although she always said that men were far fussier. We had a regular stream of clients and plenty of walk-ins. The modelling, or practice nights as we called them, had been reduced to twice monthly and there were always plenty of volunteers.
A typical Saturday for me would be something like this...
We would get to the shop for eight in the morning; one of us would pop next door and order three coffees. The first couple of early morning clients would be a couple of local coffee bar waiters wanting trims. I would probably know the guy and we'd talk about the afternoon's football outcome. A quick trim around the sides, back and top a bit of gel and he was out. There were only a couple of seats behind us where people could sit and wait, therefore more often as the day progressed people would either try to make appointments or they would stake the shop out whilst taking in a coffee and enter the shop as soon as they saw someone leave the place. Another guy would take his place in the chair and the trimming would start, then another and another. Someone would enter the shop and ask for one of us specifically and we'd say, "twenty minutes, half an hour OK?"
Around ten the first signs of the female species would manifest themselves: standing outside, looking straight in, staring up at the sign - which would give no clue to whether this place was a unisex, a barber's, though the four or five black and white 2 by 2ft photos of female models should give something away. She plucked up some courage and gently pushed the wooden framed glass door open.
"Hi - morning, is it all right to get a haircut?" She hadn't quite entered the shop and had stood half in, half out.
"Sure, be about 5 minutes if you'd like to take a seat," one of us would say.
De-frocking the client I had just done and brushing hair off the chair I asked her to take a seat. Money in the till - "see you soon, bye" and returning to my chair I would place the cape over my first female client of the day.
"What would you like done?" Her hair was short around the perimeter but with longer layers at the top with highlights.
She replied motioning with one hand, "Short at the back, sides - have it shorter on the top."
"How much would you like cut off the top? About two inches?" She had a good four or so. "When did you last have it cut?"
"Er, about five weeks ago."
"How short do you want to go at the back?"
"Yeah - I want that cut really short."
"Do you want it clippered?"
"Yes, that's fine."
"I'll clipper it first then I'll wash it." The grade 2 was still in place from the last trim. I would add, "I'll do a grade 2, alright?"
Possibly a slight nod.
The two or so inches she sported at the back oozed off as the clippers ran up her nape, the thin fluff on her nape which hadn't come off from the clippering stood on end. Removing the attachment I now club cut the sides, lifting the hair with the comb and running the clipper teeth clean against the comb. With the side cut short, I left some length on the sideburn. I carried on with the longer layers towards the top of her hair - just cutting it down to size. The top layers I would take an inch or so all around. Both sides completed and the top trimmed down, I swivelled the chair round and tipped the backrest down. A quick hair wash, chair swivelled back into position, start with the top all the way through with the scissors. An inch or so off through the top, cutting the side lengths shorter as I worked my way down. Trimming the hair off the ears and a little V either side. Switching on the baby clippers I cleaned the fluff away. A few more strokes with the baby clippers and comb at the base of the nape and we were done.
"I'll show you the back." I lifted the small hand-held mirror. "Is that short enough for you?"
"Yeah that's really great, thanks."
The other two girl stylists were busy away, I looked up at the clock - ten twenty-five.
"OK who's next?"
A squat-looking oriental girl stood up. "Do you want to take a seat."
The woman paid, smiled and said goodbye as she left.
The cape went on the oriental girl. "Yes, what would you like done?" She was Canadian.
"Really short all over." No hesitation.
I pumped the chair up a couple of inches. I took the comb from in front of her and ran it through her hair all the way to the back. At some point, someone had taken a pop at her hair, as it was uneven on both sides. "How short do you want it?"
She made a small C with her thumb and forefinger - I could barely see the gap she had left between her fingers. "A skin..." she paused "head cut, like a skinhead"
"Right, you want it cropped." - Not a problem - "Have you had your hair cropped before?" I asked.
"No'wah - I'm going trekking."
Trekking? I thought "What, Star Trekking?"
"Wha'?" She didn't get it.
"Never mind."
"OK - do you know what number you want?" Silly question
"Wha'?"
"I'll do a number four, I can cut it shorter if it's too long - OK?"
I fastened the cape a little tighter, cutting off what little blood was already flowing to her brain.
I rummaged around my drawer for the attachment, which rarely got used unless I was cutting a flat top. Again, I combed her hair back and switched the unit on. Her eyes focused upward without moving her head as the clippers entered her hair. I don't particularly like the grade 4, as it tends to leave a mottled effect. But in her case, her hair was thick and strong and looked even as the clippers ploughed over the top. The clippers made little work of taking all the hair off. I worked the back, shaving upwards, then the sides. Her hair was an even short-cropped length all over. Her dark hair made the grade 4 cut look too long.
"Is that short enough?" I asked. I can't say I liked the way it looked, it made her head look too round - though it did suit her, short.
Long lengths of hair lay where they fell in clumps, around her shoulders, on the floor. One of the girls went round sweeping up the floor before she served her next client.
"Yeah, I like the top - but I want it really short at the sides and back." She was a cool cookie.
We had a styles book. I pulled it out and showed her a couple of crops. She picked one, which I'd forgotten about, with some model who literally had a grade 1 up the sides and back. This style was soon to be immortalised by Miss O'Conner (Sinead).
"That's really short," I stated. I think the last trickle of blood had ceased to flow to her head as she just stared at me like a goldfish. "A grade 1 it is then."
Replacing the attachment, I tilted her head forward and ploughed the back as high as I dared before reaching the crown. An almost white lane divided the back of her head, like a white stripe on the road. The back done, I carried on with the sides. To give the hair one last hope of graduation, and I figured Deadhead would appreciate it, I removed the grade 1 and set the clippers to gradual. Running the clippers around the base of the nape and sides this in fact gave the grade 1 a fade. With very little to clean up, I marked out the hairline at the nape and cleaned the little fluff there was.
"Cool hair," was about the only remark she made as she stood up.
"Did you want it washed?" I asked.
"Nah," she nasaled.
"Happy trekking," I said as I waved goodbye.
Eleven o'clock. "Anyone want coffee?" Two 'yeah's reverberated.
I returned with the three polystyrene cups and motioned for my next client to take a seat. A young guy with shoulder length hair who wanted an inch off the tips.
Eleven twenty. My next client was a regular - a local girl who came in every three or so weeks. She worked toward the Carnaby Street end in a leather shop. I don't know how long she had been coming and she never really had any preference to who cut her hair. But I remember that she had started out with a permed bob and now she sported a French crop, which needed trimming.
"The usual?" I said jokingly as she sat down.
"Yeah if you like."
Amazingly her hair seemed to grow quite fast considering she always left the shop with such short hair and in the space of time between her regular haircuts - good business I thought.
"So what have you been up to?" I attached a grade 3 to the clippers and was already running the unit up her nape. Her head tilted down she proceeded to tell me about her Pakistani boss who was trying to come on to her.
"So I told him, I don't like blokes - do I," she mumbled
"And don't you?"
"Well, I don't like that Paki - that's for sure."
Up the nape, over the crown, from the top back down again. Up the sides and over the top. The only hair that was left uncut was the small pointy fringe, which ran from just over the temple and slightly over her forehead. She was very attractive, I thought. With the grade 3 done, I ran a grade 2 through the sides and nape. Catching the fringe between my fingers I snipped the tendrils softly almost feather-like.
"See you in a couple of weeks then," I said as she span on one heel turning from the chair.
"Ah, no me and me boyfriend are off to Spain in two weeks."
"Alright, see you when you get back."
Eleven forty-five - another regular. One of the boys as we'd say. He was about fifty - and I'd once heard that he had done five years for slapping some other guy - some slap.
This trim would normally take me five minutes (with a toilet break in between), but you had to like this guy and the trim process took just over half an hour.
Twelve twenty - and a small debate about who could snatch half an hour for lunch began. I won and went round the corner for a light beer and a sandwich.
One o'clock. When I got back, Rosa had sneaked out and had left Sonya by herself. Two people were seated so I asked the next customer up. We had a 'his and hers' situation. Sonya was already cutting the boyfriend's hair and I had got the girlfriend.
Boyfriend was having a flattop and was halfway to being plucked by Sonya. Girlfriend looked up via the mirror and unfolded a magazine cutting of a really short flat-topped model. The only thing that would differ quite frankly, from the his and hers was that the model had wispy sideburns.
"And you want it this short?" I asked.
"Yes," she said dreamily - very much in love, I thought. Girlfriend had ginger curly hair. The process of cutting a good flat-top is quite easy - if you have the right head and look.
Girlfriend didn't. I had to ask if she was really sure this was what she wanted as boyfriend caught my eye.
The grade 4 came out again, and girlfriend was shaved. Her chin length hair all gone - just a ginger stipple brush. We had these flat-topper combs which we had ordered from a supplier, these Afro looking combs had in the middle a small ampoule - a spirit level. Actually I never got to grips with this level because by the time you prepared your client to keep the head straight and level, then worked the comb just right, the client would sneeze or fart and you'd have to start all over.
I placed the plastic comb flat against her skull and with a grade 1 attachment began to plane. The fringe was going to be left standing about half an inch whilst the rest of the top would taper to and over the crown down to a few millimetres. If you looked at the style profile on you would see a grade 2 nape running up over the crown and then rising flat to the half-inch fringe. The sides, also grade 2 would continue up the head until the very top where they would angle slightly inward - very sharp. I left the sideburns long and wispy as per the recipe. I cleaned the hair around the ears and marked out the nape.
Boyfriend was already finished and was waiting by the door as girlfriend climbed down from the chair.
"I fink it's really good," said boyfriend.
"It's a bit short," whispered girlfriend.
And they left.
Rosa had returned by now and Sonya had "just popped out".
One thirty. Up on the chair was a stocky-looking guy who wanted a Peel. A grade 2 all over.
One forty five. My next client was a woman, late thirties - a few flecks of grey poking through, short hair, strong features. She described that she wanted her hair cut short through the sides and back. Her hands motioned outwards as her fingers reached the top of her head. The top she simply wanted trimming. A straightforward scissors-over-comb cut. I washed her hair first, then I cut it as short as I could take it with the comb and graduating the hair as I got higher. I trimmed the top and left it at that.
Two fifteen - a bubbly teenage girl jumped up and sat on the chair, her friend sat also waiting, blowing and popping gum.
"Yes Madam, what would you like?" She had shoulder length hair.
She ran both hands up the sides of her head. "I want the sides shaved and the back really, really short..." then holding her long hair she clasped it in one hand to form a ponytail, "...and I wannit cut about there." 'About there' was her collar.
Although quite young she seemed to know what she wanted.
With her hair tied in a ponytail I asked her "Do you know how short you want it?" I was referring to the back and sides.
"Shaved," was the reply.
"OK."
She giggled as the grade 2 buzzed up her sideburn. Long strands of hair fell and some stayed fastened by the ponytail. With the clipping done this was one young lady who in a few years time would turn some heads. I also told her that short hair suited her and one day she should consider having it cut short all over.
"No, my mum would kill me!"
Her mate by now was also being treated to the long Mohican crop.
I let her long ponytail fall to her back and with two snips severed the connection between mummy's little girl to "What the hell have you gone and done" - growing up.
She was very pleased and was talking to me about having the first couple of inches shaved over her forehead. I told her to forget it.
Two forty-five. The next client was also a young lady except she was in her early/mid-twenties. She already had a pretty-looking bob. Her hair was light brown but as I looked closer - and this was the reason she had come - some days previously she had had her hair cut at her local hairdressers. She had wanted the back cut very short and stepped. The unfortunate thing was that whoever had cut her hair, had cut the step at an angle - not on purpose, but badly cut. In fact, the step was so uneven that it began just behind and over the left ear and finished off almost halfway down the right ear. What's more her boyfriend didn't like the style and preferred her with shorter hair anyway.
"So what would you like done?"
She had a small picture taken from a hair magazine - the black-and-white picture was of a back headshot of a model. The caption read, "Ultra-short nape with layered top". From what I could see it was a model sporting a bob just on the ears, with a few layers and an ultra-short nape. My client's bob wasn't much longer except the back wasn't even cropped, and the sides just came down to mid-ear. Her hair was pretty much one length.
"Do you want it done like the picture?" I asked.
"Yes please."
"Did you show this picture to the stylist who cut you hair? Because it's nothing like it."
She said, "No not this one."
This style that she wanted was going to be a little more taxing because the back was very short and quite high. If I inadvertently cut hair which belonged to the side, I may as well convince her to have a short back & sides now.
The cape went over her - she slid her arms through the sleeves - clever girl.
"I'll shave you first and then I'll do the cut." She nodded.
I combed as much side hair away from the back as I could and pinned the hair forward with clips. I gently tightened the cape around her neck. These blue plastic clips framed her nape and back of her head. I had two options of doing the back: I could club-cut the whole area and taper as I worked my way up this would give me more control or I could go for the attachments. The cut had to be perfectly tapered or it wouldn't work, also there was a fade at the base of the nape, which carried quite high up the nape almost to the top of the ears. It really was an ultra short back.
"Did you pay the hairdresser?"
"Yes - I didn't notice how bad it was until I got home on Thursday night," she said apologetically.
"I don't suppose your boyfriend was too happy either."
No reply.
I decided to utilise both methods.

Soho was fast becoming the gay capital of England, with Brixton coming a close second.
Men and women of all ages converged in the area to share and convive in their coming out. This was a new era and Soho was the place it was at. Thatcherism had brought a new decadence. Money was pouring, beer was flowing and just about every Tom, Dick and Harry drove a Beemer.
Our little shop was at the bottom of Compton Street, not far from the recent bombing which claimed three lives. At that time there were no designated pubs, clubs or areas for gays to socially gather other than two or so pubs in the local vicinity. Nowadays the area is synonymous with the word gay.
I asked her to tilt her head forward and she obliged. Ensuring that the grade 2 was securely attached I switched the unit on. She did not flinch.
The electric tool zipped up her nape carving a lane through her hair. I stopped short a few inches from her crown; the second run ploughed her hairline, cultivating an even finish. The strokes continued until her previously dark nape looked crisp and grey. Taking care not to sever any of the longer lengths either side of her head I now ran the clippers with the grade 1 I had just attached. The grade 1 left a stark effect in comparison to the previously shaved grade. I liberally ran the clippers from the base of her nape up the middle of her neck in a plough and lift motion, in order to blend the cut. The few clients who sat, watched - I wondered what she must have been thinking as the people behind her gazed.
The main clipper work completed I worked with the scissors and comb through the hair which had been graded with the number 2, still cropping the hair forever closer. I now worked towards the main lengths widening the cropped nape - the idea being to give the back/neck complete exposure. I ran the clippers without a guard briskly up the base of the nape to give it a final emphasis on graduation. I swivelled the chair round and began to wash her hair.
My fingers stroked her longer lengths away from her forehead. As I massaged some shampoo through her scalp, I ran my hand through her nape. The sensation of feeling her shaved nape forming up to short cropped lengths, through to her longer hair. Her shoulders lowered, she sighed.
Her hair would no longer be a bob I told her. She ran her fingertips from her right temple over the crest of her head to her nape and said she wanted that cut short. She said she had seen it on a few people and this is what she wanted. "Well," I said. "I don't know if this is going to suit you. How short are we talking about?"
She ran her hand through her hair again with the actions of the clippers. "Just really cropped."
I lifted a segment of hair from the top, displaying the whole side with the comb. "You want this cut?" I asked, referring to her hair.
"Yes."
At first her hair came off in shapeless lanes revealing her cheek and then her ear. I cropped the upper layers and finally worked on ensuring the uppermost lengths maintained some integrity and stayed in position over her scalp. I had completed the cut through the side in the same way as I had done with the back. Brushing the long layers to the left side I began to blunt scissor her hair from the eyeline just over and past her left ear. Some remnants of her left sideburn remained which I took off with the clippers. The back layers were heavily graduated to meet the shaved nape. I gathered these layers and cropped them shorter. To balance the cut I decided to raise the grade 1 up the nape 2 or so inches further. She looked fantastic. I blow-dried her hair and let her go.
Three forty five. My next client was a young man with an overgrown wedge who needed re-doing.
Four ten - a denim-clad young woman sat at my chair. Her hair had been highlighted at the top and she had sported a centre parted ear length bob. An earring in one ear.
"Hi, what would you like done?"
"Yeah - I wannit cut really short at the back, at the sides, over da top - but I wanna little bit o' fringe left."
"Do you know if you want a French crop or a crew?"
"What's the difference?" she asked.
"OK - a French crop is shaved all over with a fringe left." I demonstrated with my comb. "A crew is shaved at the sides, back - slightly longer top - you can have a fringe..."
"Yeah, go for a crew."
"How short do you want it?"
"A one at the sides and back."
"Are you sure?" I had to check.
"Course."
I removed the grade 1 from my previous exploit and attached a grade 4. The plastic attachment lifted her hair high off her nape before the vibrating teeth began to gnaw a lane up her virgin white nape. I negotiated the clippers well past her crown before commencing a new stroke. Her hair shaved to under half an inch except for the fringe, I removed the attachment and grabbed the flattop comb. Placing the comb flat against the uppermost side of her head I planed what hair poked out - continuing around her head until the top sides and back were shaved in a straight angle to a few millimetres. Long reams of hair rested on her cape and shoulders. Taking my normal comb I now ran it over the top of her skull methodically clipping the hair with my scissors. Nipping her fringe between my fingers I asked her how short she wanted it. Not receiving a comprehensible reply I feathered her fringe and left it at about an inch and a half.
"It's not too short for you, is it?" I asked, you never know.
"Nah - actually..." she dribbled, "can you do the sides and back so there ain't nuffink there?"
"What, a zero?"
"Yeah." Well it was already ultra short.
I reached above the mirror where we keep knick-knacks. On the shelf we used to have odds and ends and a couple of old-fashioned style hand-operated clippers. I thought I'd give it a try, as the last time had been when I first started out in a barber's shop a few years previously. She voluntarily tilted her head forward.
Dusting the small tool off, I applied some oil and tightened the head. I placed the silver instrument against the base of her skull and began working it, my right hand flexing in and out. The clipper leaves a gorgeous finish, not completely shaving the hair as an electric unit might but instead leaving a small prickle. With the nape shaved, I bent her ear down as I shaved an inch of hair from it. Now the side and sideburn and the other side. This technique had left a harsh line around her head but was soon put to right as I then ran a grade 1 with the electric clippers, fading the shaved and the cropped. One happy cropped lamb.
My last client of that day was another young lady who had previously had a step/bowl (a badly-cut one by looks) and had wanted it re-done. She sat in the chair, big hoop earrings, one side higher that the other. The bowl followed the contour of her skull and carried just touching her ears. She did however, as she pointed out, want the bowl cut an inch or so above the ears - as it was becoming the trend. I clipped her hair up the sides, an inch above the ears and up the nape and re-cut the step after washing it.
Waiting for the last style to finish, I sat around and waited to Sonya to finish. Rosa asked if Monday night was still on as I was due to cut her hair - her hair was already short - but she was going for a French crop. I told her no problem and left with the gang.

I recently attended a dinner party round friends'. During the meal someone asked how business was. I replied that business was steady but if last year was anything to go by - this summer should be a good season for business too. Someone else added, "Yes and you're quite lucky where you're situated because you get the office people in during the week from the City and the weekend shoppers from Covent Garden and Oxford Street - don't you?"
"Yes - quite fortunate," I replied.
"And a lot of them are regulars," my wife contributed.
We have known our friends for years, gone on holiday etc., and the same old questions about each other's jobs always pops up: What's the weirdest, longest, shortest, worst, youngest, oldest, bluest, pinkest, those sort of questions. We ask the same about their professions, one's a music publisher and the other is a music teacher - another couple who are at the party are both in television and so on.
"Sure, I'm very lucky in that respect: no sooner have we finished doing a client's hair, they're already booking their next appointment about three or four weeks in advance."
"I can't even plan tomorrow, let alone four weeks ahead," laughed Tom - the host. Tom has his wife cut his hair and she does her own - though I have offered my services. Amanda, who's in television, asked, "So what's the quickest appointment anyone's ever made?"
"Quickest?" I asked.
"Yeah - you've done their hair and they book an appointment for the next day."
"Well, I don't know about the next day - the following week is about the earliest."
I knew my wife would bring this up the moment she put down her glass of wine. "What about that woman who comes in every Monday or Tuesday for a cut?"
"What about her?" now I began to laugh.
"You told me that you couldn't get her hair any shorter."
I began to think about all those times that clients came back far more regularly than necessary - and still do.
"No, she comes in about twice a month and has the same style re-done - has done for ages."
"Maybe she's a bad example - but you've had loads of clients who come in really regular."
Amanda cut in, "Some people love the attention given to them, the pampering - like some people enjoy visiting the dentist or their doctor."
"A fetish," burped Tom.
"Probably."


One of the young juniors pokes her head round and tells me that my eleven o'clock is now ready for me. I walk out from the small back room and to the chair. Seated, staring inanely at the mirror, sits a young woman wearing a polar neck, jeans and pumps. Her hair is already very short, about an inch and a half through the top, cropped back and sides. Not what I would call pretty but she has a nice face.
"Morning, how are you?" I ask.
"Very well thanks," she smiles back.
"OK - what would you like done?"
"I'd like it cut shorter," she replies - still smiling.
I run my comb through her hair. "OK - well, it's pretty short already - what do you have in mind?"
She tilts her head slightly to one side. "Quite short on top, really short at the sides and at the back."
"When did you last have it cut?" I run the comb through her nape.
"About ten or so days ago." More like two or so days ago, I think to myself - she obviously wants it cut. Oh well.
"Did you have the back done with the clippers?" I ask her.
"Yes."
"Do you know what number you had?"
"Yes, it was a grade 3, but I would like it much shorter and the sides done please."
"I'll do a 2 through the sides and back - do you want the top clippered?"
"I do want the top cut really short but I think it might be too short if it's cut with the clippers," she says.
"I'll show you some styles and we can see how short you want to go." I pull out the styles book.
We flick through the various styles: some that we've done in the past, others which have been acquired from a hairdressing supplier.
She scans the eight or so photos of short cuts. "See - I like the back and sides on this one but I don't like the top. I like the top on this one."
She settles on a combination of two styles. "This will be short," I tell her.
"No that's fine."
While her hair is washed, I prepare for her cut. I have a thick blue comb with a handle, which is near on a centimetre in depth - just right for top crops. I attach a grade 2 to the clippers and add a tiny drop of oil.
She returns to the chair. I secure her cape, place a rubber neck mat over her shoulders and I brush her short hair back away from her face.
"OK?" I ask
"Yes, sure." No expression.
Placing the thick comb flat against her forehead, and lifting her already short dark fringe, I begin to work the scissors almost mechanically - as the comb and scissors run through her hair in unison.
I haven't kept the scissors flat against the comb; there is a minute distance between them to give her hair a little length. I crop the top and as much of the sides and back as the comb will now allow.
I'm very happy with the top and even though the sides and back have yet to be taken shorter with the clippers - she looks fantastic.
She is covered in small particles of hair, over her face, nose, and ears. She asks, "Sorry, if I had the top cut with the clippers would it be shorter?"
"Well, it depends what grade. A number 4 would still be a lot shorter and the cut would all be the same length." I showed her a photo from the book - about the only one we had - of a model whose hair had been cropped through the top with a grade 4.
I asked, "Have you had your hair cropped before?"
"No - not that short."
"There's a bit of a difference. I've cut your hair very short - but if I clipper the top it'll be at least half the length."
"Hmm, you're right - OK."
"Do still want me to take the back and sides shorter?"
"Oh yes, definitely."
I entered her nape from the base with the clippers. Running the unit high up her nape just short of the crown, I continued through her sides. Finishing, by blow-drying her hair, she fired an "I love it" before I had asked.
Later that day I was busy tending somebody's hair when one of the juniors asked softly, "Dan will you be able to fit a trim in?"
"Who for?" I asked - all I had to do was look over my shoulder.
"A lady from this morning?"
I looked over my shoulder; it was our cropped beauty. "Please tell her I'll be right over."
I excused myself and went over to the front. "Hi - anything wrong?"
"You're going to think I'm mad. I want to get it cut shorter."
"Are you sure? You said you liked it as it was this morning."
"Yes I know - but I've been thinking..."
"Why don't you give it a week or so, then come back if you still want it cut or trimmed through."
"No, I'm pretty sure"
"You're definitely sure?"
"Positive!"
This would just be a five-minute job so no need to shuffle anything around. "Well, please give me ten or so minutes while I finish the other client and we'll fit you in." I could see my two juniors have a chortle together over our beauty.
She sat at the chair, caped.
If I've cut one crop I've probably cut a thousand so I knew that determined look. Having said this I have been wrong in the past and also seen determination walk out the door in tears rubbing its prickly head.
"I can do it a little shorter over the top..."
"No, it's alright - cut it like the picture."
The neck mat back on. The grade 4 looked like a tractor scoop attached to the clippers.
CLACK! The clippers awoke.
With hardly any hair for me to hold back, the clippers entered her cropped fringe - decimating it in length. She swallowed dryly as the first grey lane appeared. Continuing over the crown, I carved the second lane, then the third.
"It's a great sensation - it feels so different from what I expected," she almost whispered.
"Does it compare to how it felt when you had the back and sides done?"
"No, much different."
Retracing the clippers path a couple of times I switched the unit off. I quickly blended any lines around her well-formed head.
"I'll probably have it cut even shorter now," she said, looking very pleased with herself.
"Not tonight, I hope."
"No - give it a few days."
She didn't return in a few days but came back a couple of weeks later and continues coming back every two weeks or so for a trim.


"No, I wouldn't say that young woman has a fetish about hair - she just likes having it cut," I said, replying to Amanda and my wife.
"Alright..." my wife said. "What about all them years back when you were in the little shop and that woman told you all she was doing some course or other and she sat in your shop for a week - and just sat there and stared at everyone - and you never bothered to ask her who or what course she was doing."
"Now - she was scary."

Her limp fringe lifted for a split second and then fell, the clippers continued steadily carving the first lane. The second stroke widened the carved gorge through her hair, then the third and forth.
A few minutes before she had placed her small rucksack by the foot of the chair and sat down. Running both hands through her hair she looked in the mirror and waited to be cloaked. Fastening the Velcro straps behind her neck I asked what she would like done. With hair that looked as if it had been cut with a blunt penknife - she patted her hair and replied in a boyish tone "take it all off". We touched briefly on the subjects of length and style.
She selected answer "D" from the multiple choice question of which grade to have her hair cropped. I was just about finishing her grade 1 skin. Then it struck me - I hadn't asked her if she was really sure about having her this done.
Why not?
She was like every other female who had sat down and asked for this type of style. OK - some had asked for less severe crops - some were prettier, others not so, some younger, some older.
So, why not?
She was dressed pretty much like all the other previous females. Maybe she had a few more earrings and adornments but all in all, she was pretty much run-of-the-mill.
Would I ask a guy sporting long hair if he was sure he wanted it cropped?  Maybe not.
Inhibitions - I thought to myself - that's what it is. This young woman confidently sat down, requested what she wanted and watched casually as her golden locks came off. I didn't particularly think this type of peel suited her and as she arose from the chair she passed one hand over her sandpaper like skull - which made a rasping sound.
Pondering on "Inhibitions", I thought maybe that was the wrong word. Perhaps not inhibition, perhaps just the thought of what others might think would be enough to discourage one, stopping what one wishes to do. I thought about another young woman who I had just recently cropped - very smartly dressed, short neat hair, very well groomed. She entered the shop half an hour before late closing. I had seen her walk past a couple of times - as she'd walk past she would quickly look into the shop - maybe she was shy I thought, as she hung her raincoat up on the hook. She waited to be asked to the chair. Both Rosa and I were seated and I stood up - would she prefer Rosa to do her hair? - It was my turn and Rosa was winding down. The young woman smiled almost nervously as she sat. Wide-eyed and looking back at me via the mirror she fumbled for some cuttings that she had placed in her trouser pocket - No - other pocket - she apologised - the cuttings were in her raincoat pocket. I handed her her raincoat. She unfolded them; there were two small clippings. Both pictures depicted short haired-models - one with quite a heavy length top but shaved ultra-short through the back and sides; and the other a short tousled look with V'd sides. She wasn't sure which of the styles she preferred - she quite liked the first style but thought the top was too long and she also liked the second style but thought it was too square in shape. Her hair, although short and suiting her, was quite heavy at the sides - almost framing her high cheek bones - the fringe which was perhaps the longest in layers rode high on her head. Lifting hair with my fingers I asked her realistically how much she wanted off - the two or so inches whittled down to less than half an inch. And finally the naked ear crop (the ultra-short back and sides) that she requested materialised in our briefing.
"You realise how short this style will be?" Do I begin to make her re-think this through?
"Will you have a problem with work?" I keep posing these questions or even disclaimers.
She tells me what she does - hairstyle or lengths are not a problem. Some people simply lie, tell you that they're going off exploring some uncharted territory and hair is the last thing they want to be worrying about whilst they're rubbing twigs together trying to make the microwave oven light up.
"So you won't be wanting your hair dried then Miss Vasco De Gamma?"
"Oh you'd better. I may just catch a cold on my way to the airport."
Attaching a grade 4 - clippers in one hand a flat top comb in the other - I ask her again, "And you're definitely sure?"
Convincing herself she nods and swallows dryly as the square flat comb prongs itself through her fringe and then the clippers rest for a second on the comb before they begin to move forward in unison. Both comb and clippers negotiate the contours of her scalp.
She stares into the mirror - she is surrounded by short wisps of her dead hair - her cropped hair, rounded through the top to half an inch.
She looks positively bald - she thinks - it will grow - within a week or so she'll have her usual style - Maybe if she leaves the sides and the back it won't look so short.
"Do you still want it cut short up the back and sides?" I ask.
I ask her again.
"Hmm - sure." She coughs. The grade 1 snaps into place and a run the clippers liberally up her nape - what a beautiful nape - the unit rips up behind her ear. Her thick matted sideburn peels off - displaying the contrast between loosely cropped and ultra-cropped.
Shit - what will everyone at work say - she told her close friends she was having something daring - this is taking the piss - they're all going to say- bugger
 

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