Hair stylists around the world

One thing that is always a bit of a hassle when you move, is finding a new hairstylist. It sounds like a trifle but for us women, having a hairstylist we like and trust is crucial.

In Bangkok I found one conveniently located in the shopping mall where I used to spend quite a lot of time. The hairstylist was a trendy Thai man who spoke about three words of English and I had to bring my driver to translate the first couple of times until he knew what I wanted. Our silent relationship lasted for almost five years, until we moved to Mexico. There I found a hairstylist in a fairly trendy salon. He spoke English and had won awards for his skills in hair coloring. My entire family went to him on a regular basis. He wasn’t very talkative, not like the Swedish hairstylists anyway. When we moved after three years we all said good bye to him and he shook my hand and gave my husband a big hug. It's usually the other way around but hey, you can't win 'em all, can you? 

In Kuwait, a fellow Swede dragged me to her hairdresser whom she claimed was ”fantastic” and so good priced. The salon was located in a building that looked like it had taken a good beating during the invasion and not much had been done since. The manicurist had to wake up the Lebanese hairdresser who was living in an apartment next to her salon. The hairdresser kept smoking while she was cutting and coloring my hair, insulting me for the hairstyle that I was having as it was not in accordance with Lebanese hair fashion. My Swedish friend introduced me to her hairstylist, a British young man who did a good enough job with the scissors. Sure, he kept reminding me that I’m middle aged; ”when you’re older - like you are – this and this is good for your hair”, sometimes he intended his comments to be compliments like ”you have such a nice and shiny hair for your age”. I did like him, even more since I started reminding him about his age: ”you’ll know this once you get a little older” or ”you’re too young to know what Dallas and Baywatch were” and "no, the Karate Kid with Jackie Chan is NOT the first Karate Kid movie. I saw the first one in the cinema when I was like 12 or so". 

After an unsatisfactory cut at a boring salon in my Melbournian suburb, I found a very trendy salon in the shopping mall only minutes away from our home. It’s posh, there are different levels of the hairstylists, the higher title the higher the price – of course. I get to choose drinks from a nice menu and they always start by giving a neck massage. I feel pampered. As I am now adapted to a more modest lifestyle, I only go to the salon when I really need it instead of when I feel like it. I went last week for a much needed haircut and I brought a picture of Heidi Klum as a reference for how I would like to look like. I am very pleased with the outcome of my hair but I still don’t look like Heidi Klum.

 In the morning, before I’ve done any hair styling whatsoever, I look like a rock singer from the 80’s. So my daughters start their mornings with a big laugh and that’s always a good start to a new day, isn’t it?