Hair today …

By Alison Lebovitz

I never thought I’d say this, but I’m finally with someone I really like and, more important, I totally trust.

I’ve never been what you would call a monogamist, to say the least. You wouldn’t believe the number of people I’ve been with over the past few years alone. And even though I’ve only been with this person a short time, I know it’s right—a woman can just sense these things. Plus, it’s the most open and honest relationship I’ve ever had. In fact, it may just be the best thing that’s ever happened to me…and my hair.

After years of hairdresser hopping, I think I am finally ready to settle down with a single stylist. And I am relishing this euphoric, however ephemeral, stage as long as I can. It’s not that I’m a pessimist, just a realist. All client-hairdresser relationships are inherently love-hate relationships and therefore doomed from the start.  So as much as I love my current coiffeur, I know this chair affair is destined to fade as fast as the semi-permanent color in my hair.

Hair styling is probably one of the most stressful occupations there is, because a stylist must be all things to all women. In fact, the expectations a woman has of her best friend, her mother and even her spouse pale in comparison to the impossible demands she puts on her hairdresser.

When a woman is depressed, a haircut is expected to cheer her up. When she feels unattractive, a new hairdo is supposed to make her feel gorgeous. Instead of therapy, we seek hairapy—we want treatments that yield immediate results! We color, crimp, chop, thin, weave, perm, highlight, straighten and layer as if somehow that will change our reality. We’ll try bobs, pixies, afros, shags, pageboys, crew cuts and even cornrows as if somehow it will be a panacea for our pain. And, fortunately for us, when it doesn’t work, we always have someone to blame—the hairstylist. Why do they call themselves “beauticians” if they can’t make me beautiful, right?

But why do we do this? Well, after years of intense research in the area of cosmetology, after experimenting with countless cosmetologists and listening to numerous barbershop quartets, I think I have finally discovered the problem and the bane of every woman’s existence: hair fashion magazines. I know they strategically place these so-called “glamour” magazines around the salon so that patrons might be inspired by a certain style, taken with a certain color, or even prompted to try a new look. But instead, during the 45-minute wait for Sergio to finish blowing out his two o’clock appointment, our boredom evolves into brainwashing; we go from imagining ourselves with a certain haircut to envisioning ourselves as those models because of the haircut. And by the time ol’ Sergio whips us into his chair, we are utterly convinced that no matter the shape of our faces, the size of our bodies, or the color of our skin, this hairdo, a picture of which we are now desperately gripping, will be our saving grace.

The reality is that a woman would never walk into a department store, show the salesperson a page torn out of Cosmo and say, “Make me look like her, please.” Yet I know all too well the heartbreak that results from going into a salon with the intention of getting the perfect Farrah Fawcett haircut and coming out with something that looks more like Roseanne Roseannadanna.

Which brings me back to the “love-hate” part of the client-hairdresser relationship. There is no middle ground when it comes to hair. It’s either “Give me a trim” or “Chop it off”; “I like the natural look” or “Let’s try the color du jour”; “I want it perfectly straight” or “Make it crazy curly.” Likewise, there are only two ways a woman will ever leave a salon: either loving her hairdo and knowing that, short of becoming a contortionist, there is no way she can get it to look that way ever again, or absolutely hating her hairstyle and knowing she’ll have to use a power washer to get all of the gunk out of her hair.

So, even though I am totally happy with my current stylist, I realize that our destiny is predetermined, our future parting inevitable. For now, though, I’m enjoying a stress-free, honest relationship with someone I totally trust. I’m just glad to know the Farrah look is back in style.