The Power of Beauty

Beauty lies within a woman's soul.  Whether she wears a refined, smooth, bob, a pixie, or a glamorous, long, look.  Her beauty reveals itself through her eyes, in the way she picks up a glass, or the way she interacts with a child.  It's revealed in nothing short of everything she does. And yet a woman's beauty is not a prescription, but indescribable, and elusive.  The expression manifests itself as differently as we are individuals, as varied as  the many species of flowers that speckle the earth.  So when a woman sits in my chair, and her eyes twinkle, she says what is on her mind, and she is leery of looking like every other woman, or even a movie star, then I know I'm dealing with a woman who is in touch with herself, her inner beauty, her soul.

"Mommy hair" is an infliction of the American woman --long blond hair, with tiny hi-lites everywhere.  A look of someone who is trying to look like what they think it means to be a woman in the American culture, instead of creating the culture itself, using herself as the canvas.

The power of beauty permeates in what she chooses to wear and how she wears it, whether it's a hairstyle or an item of clothing.  Dressing for herself as if she matters, placing attention on the face, hair and clothing, as well as tending to the inner life, give a woman an undeniable beauty.  It creates an energy that makes people smile as they pass her by, they have to look, and yet, this resonance has nothing to do with trend, and needing people to look.  She knows it is her much needed contribution of Beauty to the world, and we are the recipients.

Time to Shine

Giselle is one of those clients who walks into a room and commands attention, not by what she says, but how she looks.  She is regal, unafraid, and meets you with her eyes.  At first glance, you might think she is an artist, a gypsy, or a one woman show of some kind.  When I first met her, I knew it was my time to shine.

She was referred by a client who, in the past has liked to play with special effects in her, colors that were unnatural looking and fun.  She spoke of Giselle, and said, "One of these days she will come in, and you will love doing her hair."

The day came when she sat in my chair.  It was a match that was meant to me.  As she said yesterday, "I knew you were out there somewhere and that I would meet you, I just didn't know when."   The experience I have of coloring her hair, is one of utter, complete freedom.  I don't have to consult, ask permission, or hesitate. Her only requirement is that is doesn't look natural.

My only limitation is my own thinking, my own mind.  So I dream while I paint on her color, letting my mind imagine and wander in the kaleidoscope of the color world.  Is it lime green with orange, or purples and oranges.  Right now we are working with doing less bleach and toning, and playing with 7.40 Loreal, 20 volume at the base.  Mid-lengths and ends are bleached and toned with candy apple red, and napalm orange, and yellow, with a smidgen of orange.

Who knows what will be next.  I don't plan.  I want to stay in the moment with her hair, and before her next appointment I will probably have a creative, rich, dynamic dream about her, in full living color.

By the way, she is a most talented clothing designer.  Check her out.  www.giselleshepatin.com

Hair Types and Personalities

Over the years, I have thought about how the different hair-types match the personality of a person?  Does curly hair match a more-than-what-meets-the-eye kind of personality?  Does frizzy hair match a more complicated, uncontainable personality?   And does a pokey head of hair match a defiant personality?  I am thinking about this now as it relates to my family, whom I am visiting for the holiday with my four sisters, one brother, and their families.  Pondering this notion, if nothing else, buys me some time from considering how we are disconnected and have not changed much at all. The third oldest is the one with the most hair, she is growing her hair out again, it is mid-length, around her shoulders and big.  I mean she has three times the amount of all of us, is definitely the ringleader, activity director, and certainly one of the most vocal of the clan.  Then there is the oldest sister, who has straight, coarse, very short hair and is also one of the outspoken ones.  Her language has become more abrasive, as her personality has, shouting seems to be the way she communicates.  She refuses to change, even when she is miserable.  The fourth oldest sister wears her fine hair long, down to her lower back, it looks like there is an old perm on the last six inches or so.  She is not verbal at at, in fact it seems as if the muscles around her mouth have contracted, giving her limited range of motion.  She sends little verbal dings when she does speak, or piles on the guilt.  My brother has a lot of hair as well, sort of curly on the ends, although it looks a bit like a Mullet now, it's better than the militaristic look it had five years ago, which is the last time I saw him.  He comes off tough, and sometimes will spew racial, political words that seem spoon fed to him from some right wing rhetoric on TV, but he is the first to give hugs.

Then there is my parents, both have a lot less hair, both are all grey and white.   My dad just turned eighty years old yesterday and my mom is seventy four, both are showing signs of her age, she was limping yesterday.  My dad is soft-spoken, like his fine hair which lies down smooth, although he has been known to stand up on his political soapbox as well, he has spared us this trip.  My mother has a bit more texture to her hair, and she perms it to make it do what she would like, not so unlike her subtle manipulation with us.

And me, I am one of the soft spoken ones, particularly when around my sisters, who compete and play verbal hardball.  I do wish I had a quick mind and verbal ability, I have come to accept it is not me.  My hair is fine and short today, with some bend if given encouragement which could be indicative of my somewhat pathological need for constant fluffing, keeping things fresh, and change.

Hair texture aside, my family is familiar and yet my life is so unlike theirs.  And all though we strive to connect, we cannot go back and rewrite the play of our lives.  We love each other and we do connect in small ways.

Community

Yesterday was a most challenging day.  Total chaos in the salon--loud, bad 80's music all day-Donna Summer, Duran Duran and, and, and, oh well, I just tuned it out.  Eight chairs packed, every stylist had two clients going at at least once throughout the day.  Our new receptionist that just started this week, gone, and we were short assistants.  I felt fragile. Then, Betty walked in.  She was visiting from Boston for the holiday.  Within moments she revealed her age, a surprising eighty one years did not show.  She stood about 6'3"years old, and  wore a wide, beautiful smile.  She was stylish and well-dressed, in a Chico's kind of way, she made the clothing look classy.  Drama was written all over her, however, not yet expressed in her hair design. 

She was scheduled for a blow dry.  And, when I set the dryer down, I asked, "How long has it been since you had a cut?"

She said, "Just last week.  But you may do whatever you want."  Music to my ears.  As I nipped away, creating some asymmetry in the fringe area and taking weight of the top, she opened her heart, by telling me a difficult story, obviously one that changed her life forever.  A story that required an indomitable inner strength to survive. 

She talked about her community of friends and how they have been there for her.  And then we came back around to her hair.  She said, "I have been with my stylist for thirty eight years, even when sometimes I'm not happy."

"That is loyalty." I responded.

"Yes. I wouldn't think of changing, we have a relationship.  He's part of my community," she said.  And because I am a friend of her daughters, she treated me as if I were a member as well.

As she waved goodbye, she remarked, "This is the cut I have always wanted.  I'm going to have to move here now."  We both laughed and knew that would never happen.  I walked into the break room with the feeling I had met somebody with a kind heart, a sense of humor, and a deep soul.

Curly Hair

Springy, bouncy, frizzy, coarse, or fine doesn't matter, curly hair is the most challenging hair for me to cut. Specifically, the coarse or frizzy head of hair, where the client isn't product oriented. But I love cutting it's twists and turns. I never knew how to cut it before.  Clients would leave with haircuts that looked like pyramids, cones, or entirely too bulky.  I didn't know about texturing or channeling fat curly hair.  The finesse of cutting curly hair has taken years to develop.

And, still, it can leave me baffeled and doubting myself. Everything I've learned about curly hair has come through watching other hairstylists, some online training, and working with it for 24 years. This is where personal growth and professional developement step in.  Perhaps I should attend a class. 

Curly hair, the definition of humility. I bow to you.

Graveyard Saddhana

Three years ago, a client of mine, Nancy, was diagnosed with Breast Cancer.  Being the "alternative" medicine queen, she tried accupuntcure, herbs from Mexico, doing nothing, doctor after doctor for more opinions, before she would walk the western medicine route.  We were close, and both of us knew our relationship had little to do with hair.  "I would rather die, than deal with the medical world," she had announced.  After months of estrogen blockers as part of the treatment, she shot into the salon for a haircut; short brisk movements, her head turning side to side, her seat moving in and out of the chair, her voice cracking.  She was a live wire flipping through the air, not knowing where to land. 

A year later she was introduced to a spiritual practice called Nicherin Daishonin Buddhism.  It's the practice that chants Nam Myoho Renge Kyo, I had heard about it eighteen years prior by a client, but I didn't practice long.  Nothing ever stuck with me.  One day during this time, Nancy sat in my chair, her voice calm, the angst gone, her words came out like little pillows, instead of jagged points.  She had literally dropped into her body.

I was impressed enough, and miserable enough to say, " I'm coming to a meeting. "  All my life I have wandered how can I be happy?  All the obvious externals, weren't doing it anymore.  Did they ever?  In one years' time, chanting twice a day, the benefits in my life keep rolling in.  I can honestly say, I am happy.  I've had some major challenges come up and have been able to move through them with ease.

Nancy was just in for a two year check up, so far no cancer to be found.  The doctor finds it mysterious, he wants her back in three months to continue the hunt.  She keeps chanting, and did chant right into the face of death.  Graveyard Saddhana.

 Nancy and I are closer now than ever, and now we understand the deeper nature of our relationship.

Thank you Nancy!

The Best Hairstylist: Have you found one?

Going into a salon to get your haircut can be a mystifying, multi-faceted, complex experience, leaving one fulfilled as they walk out onto the sidewalk, looking for every possible reflective surface to peer into, or not.  One would think to get a haircut would be simple-- go in, put on one of those all so attractive smocks, tell the stylist what you want, shampoo, cut and blow dry.  Done.  But how do you find the best hairstylist for you?

Do they have style?  Do they communicate well? Are they skilled?  Are they ego driven and full of attitude? Do they listen to you? Do they give a great shampoo? Do you walk out loving your do?

These are a few of the things I would look for.  I love going to stylists who are highly creative, who aren't afraid to try new ideas, who are easy to be with, upbeat, postive and communicate well about what they are going to do with my hair.  I want to go to a stylist who is kind.  But I don't want this, if it means I need to deal with too much ego, personal drama etc.

It's not just somebody who works on my hair.  They are touching me, I want somebody I hope to go back to and develop a relationship with, somebody I can trust.   This relationship is personal and professional.  Do I give this to my clients?

No Boundary

So, back to the personal question issue, which is inextricably connected to boundaries.  The boundary line moves depending on who sits in my chair, but there is always a line to be found that winds back and forth on itself, building a wall around my personal life.  So, how is it then, that this wall seems imperceptible to some, as if there is no boundary?  About once every six months, for the last fifteen years, a client has asked "When are you getting married?"  She insists that I need to, and now even more so because my partner and I have a child together.  Now she is at least twenty years my senior and works as a therapist.  Even as well as we know each other, I would never say to her, "You need to do this."  Nor would I assume that I would know what is right for her.  This topic feels personal to me.

And so, I answer with, "We're talking about it."  Hoping this will appease her for another six haircuts.  It's awkward every time.  What is my own privacy threshold?  If marriage feels to personal. and I haven't said anything to her, then there is no boundary.   Would a client say, "Hold it, that is too personal, I don't want to talk about that?

Therapy vs Hairstyling

Watching my friend give and give and give as a hairstylist, then burn out, was incredibly painful.  Did he need to do it that way?  Seeing his muddied boundaries was confusing, because he was somebody I respected in other ways, he would do just about anything for me.  In fact, he helped me build my hairstyling career. Maybe it's the only way he knew how.  Maybe it is what his clients expected of him. As a budding hairstylist, I could see the position required building relationships, sustaining them, not to mention having great technical skills, but did it mean I had to give up myself as an offering?

Relationship

I used to work next to this hairdresser, a very good friend of mine at the time, who never hesitated to ask really personal questions, and he played out the role of psychologist, even though he was one of the most neurotic people I know.  "So how are you two really doing?  Are you having sex yet?"  My skin would crawl, it felt unprofessional.  And yet, he was booked solid.  He was known to be over-the-top sensitive, and a great listener, and he really did care.  And, yet he would get right in your buisness.  He attracted clients who liked that.

He gave, and gave, and gave.  He booked himself tight, haircut after haircut.  Lunch went down in five minutes, usually the fattiest, saltiest of foods, wtih a Coke.  After years of that pace, he vanished from his buisness.  Couldn't do it anymore.  Clients who had appointments, didn't get a call.  Clients of eighteen years wondered why. 

Done.