I got the idea for this post based on all the talk here lately about how many of us are doing our own hair. Fifteen years ago, this would have been unheard of. Like my mother and her mother, we were completely dependent on the hairdresser to keep Buckwheat jokes at bay. I got a perm at 11-ish, hair broke off 3 inches flat. Every month we budgeted nearly $200 for 8 hours in the salon, and only 1.5 in the chair. For a while, I was COMPLETELY addicted to one particular stylist, whose magic hands grew my hair the longest it had ever been–18 inches. She had me so sprung she used to send me out to get her food, which I would pay for with my own money, of which she would not reimburse. I drove three hours round trip every two weeks. On the Saturday I’d make the trek, The Hubster would kiss me goodbye in the morning and say, “See you tomorrow!”
Dionne was the star of every beauty salon she rented space in. She had a the waiting room packed on Saturday like a VD clinic in North Hollywood. I’d have an appointment at, say, 10 AM, and she wouldn’t show up to the salon until 10:45, weave swinging and heels clinking. I’m not kidding–people would actually rise from their seats to greet her. Well yes–they probably rose because like me, the six of them also had 10 AM appointments and mistakenly thought it was their turn at the sink. Nope. Because Dionne was susceptible to bribes, she’d take the little old church lady who stumbled in five minutes earlier, bible clutched in one hand, and a wade of dollar bills in the order. All us knaves parted for Church Lady, kicking ourselves in silence, because to speak out could bring the wrath of Dionne, who would take everyone else who came after you before you and make watch, because you dare not leave for fear that you hair might be suddenly possessed by the Ghost of Buckwheat.
Don’t laugh. I’ve seen the aftermath of the exorcisms hairdressers have had to impart as Buckwheat ghost writhed and spat defiant coils that wrapped around stylists’ wrists, took hold, and whomped them left and right like a Looney Tunes cartoon. Church lady even had to crack open the Bible, because she just knew there was some verse in there about casting out the demon Buckwheat.
So glad I do my own hair now and can keep that $200 for another lame expense, like paying for food and utility bills.
Okay your turn–what’s your worst salon horror story? Inquiring and gossipy minds want to know!
As a WW I had no idea that BW's hair was different in texture and requirements. It took an article in a UK website to explain it. Specifically bemoaning the lack of good stylists, and the fact that most salons cater to WW hair because it's easier.
But there were two stories from this article that I remember vividly, though I will probably not tell them as well:
Situation One -
WW takes a young black or mixed race little girl (5 or 6?) into an ordinary hairdresser, the child is put in a chair. The mother then proceeds to berate the hairdresser for the next forty minutes about how awful this child's hair is and how she can do nothing with it. The hairdresser washes, brushes and blow dries this child's hair, which of course, frizzes it even worse. The child sits in silence, looking utterly miserable, while they discuss how awful her hair is and the end result is not good. Cue more drama from the mother.
Situation Two-
A white woman take two small girls of obviously mixed race to a "black hair specialist" salon. Heads up to the counter, and says "that hairstyle you have with the tight braids, what is it called?". The surprised hairdresser replies "cornrows". The woman turns to her little girls and says "Why don't we all get that then!"
Both the little girls and their mother get cornrows, all are delighted with the results.
It was an eye-opening read - I lived for most of the time in a part of London well known for having a "very high ratio" of black residents (30% apparantly), and thus there are a lot of bush meat stores, caribbean fried chicken places, and ... black friendly hairdressers. Up until that point the advertisements in the shop windows for relaxers and skin whiteners had really confused me.
By the way, an article in the Guardian online yesterday, by Sister Fa, about female genital mutilation received several comments about how her afro haircut was fabulous :)
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