Today I got my cheveux couped. That’s right kids, a haircut.
Exciting times.
Now me and my hair have never been the best of friends, so
spending an hour in front of a mirror being forced to look at someone else who’s
being forced to deal with it is not one of my favourite things to do.
And then there’s the small-talk. And the challenging task of
saying yes to a coffee (because it’s free) but then having to drink it without
moving the position of your head, all before the hairdryer blows thousands of
tiny hairs into the mug.
And now imagine doing all of that in French.
Yes. Exactly.
After 4 months here, my French is still basically rubbish.
So I sensibly spent a bit of time researching the situation online. For your
own sake, please never google anything remotely like ‘Paris hairdressers just a trim’. There is a very large, very dark
part of the internet filled with horror-stories about trips to French hair
salons. Most of which are variations on, ‘She just kept hacking away at it and refused
to listen to me’ or ‘She did the whole thing with just a RAZOR’.
Apprehensive, I asked people for advice. My friend Kate just
shook her head and jabbed furiously at the pony-tail she’s been sporting recently;
apparently, a recent victim of the hacking-away treatment.
Then I asked my friend Steph, who’s lived in Paris for
years. She’ll know what to do, I thought confidently. Not so. It’s very hit-and-miss, she said
unhelpfully. You just have to go into one
and hope for the best.
Then she added, Just
don’t ask for a petit coup, because that means sex. Super.
And as an afterthought, she said darkly, And whatever you do, if they offer you a
swan, say no.
And so this morning saw me nervously entering World Cut armed with a picture of Rose
Byrne growing out a fringe, and a post-it reading ‘Trim = une coupe d’entretien. Stop = Arrêtez.’
Don’t worry. It wasn’t so bad. As the hairdresser pointed
out, my hair is really very thick so all the hacking-away she did hasn’t left
me scalped. But the experience was markedly different from getting a hair-cut
in Britain. Par exemple:
1. My idea of what I wanted was incidental. The first 10
minutes involved Hairdressers number 1 and 2 umming and ahhing like speculating
builders, shaking their heads about the chances of putting in an extension. My
French might be pretty crap, but I could follow their conversation, which
included some great phrases:
We need to put in more
movement here.
You have quite a long
face, you know.
You last had it cut
when?
Did you know the top
half is a different colour to the bottom half?
Oh look, here are a
few little white hairs.
I helpfully contributed that there’s a certain part of my
forehead that I don’t really like, but they weren’t really interested. Even the
little old lady having her highlights done next to me joined in.
2. Turns out a swan is a soin,
a conditioning treatment that costs an extra 15€. Pah, no thank you (merci Steph).
3. The add-ons didn’t stop there. If I wanted any mousse
putting in, that would be 8 further euros. I opted for a regular blow-dry, un brushing, thank you very much.
4. And the brushing
was the strangest part. The whole experience had been quite Edward Scissorhands
throughout, blades and bits of hair flying about enthusiastically. But this was
something else; I’ve never seen such violence expressed with a hairdryer. If
she was Rod Hull, then the hairbrush with my head attached was Emu trying to
attack her.
In fact, I presume this was excessive even by Paris
standards, because the manager marched over shouting ‘What are you doing?’ and took over. She was equally brusque, but
seemed less angry about the whole thing. I was just starting to feel part-proud,
part-relieved that the whole thing was nearly over, when she said, ‘Hmm, frizzy. This bit’s very dry.’
And hairdresser number 1 chipped in from across the room
something which I didn’t hear, but which undoubtedly meant ‘That’s what you get for not having a soin’.
Cultural
acclimatisation rituals for the day = 1.
Soins = 0.
Celebratory pains au chocolat consumed = 2.
Relief at not having
to visit the hairdresser for at least 3 months = priceless.
