It was during the third shampoo – the one before the scalp massage and the Shiatsu in my chair – that I realized I like the pampering of my hair salon. I have given up a great many extravagances – I no longer shop til I drop, or go to the Spa for massages – but my hair is one thing where I just cant skimp.
And too, there’s the moments, like the shampoo, that are just utter indulgences. I usually close my eyes to experience the sensations of having someone else touch my head; it’s not something that happens all that regularly, and because, like many, I carry a lot of stress, it does take a lttle work to let oneself be touched. I completely understand people who say they simply leave their body – I drift into semi-consciousness.
Red is quite simply the only woman I know who came with amazing hair and needs to do little to it – when I first met her we discussed hair coloring, and she decided she couldn’t do it because her natural red might never be the same. And dash-it-all, she’s right: I don’t think I will ever see such golden tresses, especially when they’re kissed by the summer sun. Not only that, but with little effort – and I mean one basic blow-and-go haircut she’s had pretty much in all the time I’ve known her – her hair falls in waves of cascading shoulder length curls that most people get perms to achieve.
Me, not one thing about my hair is natural – I’ve cut it and dyed it and straightened it and braided it and done God knows what else. My current regime is the famous “Asian straight perm,” which I love, and which is utterly time consuming. My hair stylist is a genius, a wizard at cutting straight hair, and a great chemist – the results are long and lustrous, with minimal damage.
And, with a toss of my long mane, that may be that: thanks for having me over. Red should be back online shortly. With a tan, no doubt, and a refreshed spirit. It is, after all, a glamorous life.